Back with You
by I Need A Creative Penname
Summary: Completed! Epilogue added! *After Jack's death, Rose gave birth to his child in 1913, a girl she named Jessamyn, and gave her up for adoption. Years later, Jessamyn sets out to find her mother and learn of her missing father, who may not be gone just yet.
1. Prologue: You're Missing

BACK WITH YOU  
  
Prologue January 15, 1931  
  
Santa Monica, California  
  
Rose stood on the empty pier, looking forlornly out at the waves. The California sun was just setting, producing brilliant shades of purple, pink, and orange to form on the horizon. The waves of color bounced off of and illuminated everything around, causing a surreal glow to form. The warm, gentle wind blew past her face and around her body, as if holding her in its arms. Memories of him filled Rose's mind, the night so like that April evening. And while Jack was on her mind all the time, tonight someone else filled her thoughts and clouded her head.  
  
Today was the eighteenth birthday. Rose hadn't forgotten--could never forget. A small, imaginary pain filled Rose's abdomen and she felt herself slip back in time. She closed her eyes for a minute and tried to imagine how she must look now. She would be tall, no doubt, a grown woman now. And she would be beautiful, just like she had been. Her eyes would be that same blue, and her hair soft and long. Opening her eyes, Rose looked at the bouquet of white roses she held in her hand. There were eighteen of them, their stems wrapped in white paper. It was such a small symbol, but it meant so much to all three of them. She missed them both. Sadly, Rose began to pull out flower out at a time and then, ceremoniously, dropped them into the churning water.  
  
When the last rose was gone, Rose watched as they got swept away. Again, thoughts of yesterday filled her mind. She would like ice cream, vanilla ice cream with chocolate sauce on top. And she would like to read, and go to baseball games. And she would never let anyone get her down. She would be smart, strong, and funny. And she would like to dance, joke around, and she would cry at sad movies and books.  
  
As Rose turned to leave, the wind picked up and sent her hair flying in all different directions. The light had virtually ceased and now darkness enfolded her in its arms. She once again felt his presence, comforting her. She blew a soft kiss into the air and then wrapped her arms around her waist before slowly starting home. 


	2. Chapter One: The Last to Know

**BACK WITH YOU  
Chapter One**

**Two Weeks Later**

**The rickety train speed onward, carrying Jessamyn ever closer to California. She looked out the window and watched as the scenery passed by, too fast for her to distinguish what it was. She was alone, completely lost in thought. Oblivious as to what was going on around her, she tried to work everything out in her mind. She was so confused, and couldn't think right.**

**She was eighteen, five and a half feet tall, and built like a French woman, stocky and somewhat well-off. Her beauty wasn't modern, but rather classic, that made people turn and look when she walked by. Her eyes, a piercing blue, set off her hair, which fell down her back in a cascade of blondish-red curls. Her clothes, though loose and modest, did nothing to hide her generous curves. And she could melt you when she smiled.**

**Closing her eyes, she relived once again what had happened just two weeks ago, the day that had changed her life for good.**

**_"Jessamyn. Sit down, sweetie. We have to tell you something."_**

**_Her mother's harsh tone shocked her as she sat down on the couch in her living room, clueless as to what was going on._**

**_Her father sat down across from her, followed by her mother. They exchanged tense glances and then turned back to Jessamyn. She waited, somewhat impatiently, as they mustered up the courage to tell her whatever they wanted to tell her._**

**_Finally, after what seemed like forever, her mother spoke._**

**_"Honey," she started out, taking a deep breath after that. "We need to tell you something. Um...you see, the thing is...Jess, you were adopted..."_**

**Those damn words still echoed in Jessamyn's mind. She was adopted. All her life she had been lied to. Everything she thought had been one way was now another. And to make matters much worse, Jessamyn didn't have a clue beforehand. One minute she had been going along, thinking she had these great parents, fun siblings, and a great home. And then bam! They dropped the bombshell on her eighteenth birthday, right after the chocolate cake and vanilla ice cream had been eaten. Needless to say, everything came back up again a few minutes after the news was had. And as Jessamyn stood leaning over the toilet, she knew her life would never be the same.**

**That was two weeks ago. Since then, her parents had pulled out papers confirming that she was not in fact their child, all of her siblings had been told, as well as her friends, and Jessamyn was left to make a choice. A choice about what to do with her life. She had been planning to go to college in Boston. But that seemed so pointless now. So, with a ticket to California, a suitcase, ten bucks in her pocket, and a prayer, she jumped on the first train she could catch.**

**Of course, there was a reason she was going to California. That's where her parents had said her birth mother was planning on moving to eighteen years go, Santa Monica to be exact. Jessamyn had always been fascinated with the West, having grown up on the East coast. And she was eager to find her mother. The chances were remote that she was even still in Santa Monica, but Jessamyn had to try. And so here she was, hundreds of miles away from home, chasing a dream.**

**Bored to tears of looking out at the endless scenery, she reached into her backpack to find the novel she had been reading. She hadn't picked it up since before the day, as it was now referred to. But it might be a good idea to start it again, she thought, to get her mind off of things. Reading was her passion. She could escape that way.**

**Jessamyn was searching through her bag when she saw an envelope. Confused, as she did not remember packing that, she picked it up and looked intently at it. On the front was her mother...er...female caretaker's handwriting. Gently, she opened the envelope up and pulled out the letter which was inside it. Unfolding the white sheet of paper, she started to read...**

**_Dear Jess,_**

**_We will miss you, darling. But we know this is something you must do, and we knew that someday this would happen. Just remember you are always welcome with our family._**

**_I am enclosing a bundle of things that came with you. I believe they are from your birth mother, Rose Dawson. Hopefully they will be of some use on your journey._**

**_Best of luck,_**

**_EMC_**

**Astonished, she threw the letter aside and dug around in her backpack some more, soon finding a brown paper sack. She was intrigued now. Her mother had actually left some things so that she would know who Rose was! Excitedly, Jessamyn ripped the brown paper open. Several things fell out immediately. She picked each one up and examined them carefully. First, there was a letter of some sort. She ran her fingers over the ink on the front of the envelope. The words elegantly read Jessamyn Rose in beautiful cultured handwriting. With shaking hands, she set the letter aside and picked up the next item. It was another envelope. Since there was no writing on this one and it was not sealed, she opened it up. And to her shock, she pulled out a handful of photographs. For the first time in her life, Jessamyn got a look at what she looked like as a baby. And then, much to her delight, she came across pictures of Rose. Never having seen a picture of her mother either, she studied the pictures as if she had just found the Rosetta Stone itself. The find was even more exciting then the pictures of herself. Rose was beautiful, with long curly hair and shining eyes. Her smile, Jessamyn discovered, matched her own. Rose was apparently a little bit taller then her daughter, but the build was somewhat the same.**

**Carefully, she put the pictures back and then picked up the next part of the legacy. It was something hard, wrapped in cloth. Carefully, she unwrapped it and gasped when she saw what had fallen in her lap. It was a necklace! And not just any necklace.**

**"Whoa!" Jessamyn exclaimed very loudly, causing a few people to turn and look. Turning her back toward them, she studied the necklace some more.**

**The thing looked like it belonged in a museum of French jewelry. On a chain of diamonds hung a gigantic blue heart, surrounded by more diamonds. It must have cost a fortune, providing of course, that it was real. Someone had to be of the upper-class to get something this nice, so she soon figured it was costume jewelry, maybe something that Rose had been involved with, like a play or something.**

**Lastly, Jessamyn came across a small stack of dollar bills and some other little things like a playbill and a ticket. None of it, except the money, made any sense to her. Why on earth would Rose keep things like that for her? she wondered. She gently set those things down and reached for the letter again. After looking at it for a moment, she opened it up. The result was several pieces of paper, all with the same elegant writing on them as the envelope. With a deep breath, Jessamyn started to read her mother's words.**

**_February 16, 1913_**

**_My dear Jessamyn,_**

**_I don't know where to begin, darling. I guess the first thing I should say is that I love you. I never wanted to give you up, Jess. You were my baby. You spent nine months inside my body. And as I look at you now, asleep in a drawer because I cannot afford a crib, I can't help but cry. This is the last night I will hold you. The last night I will watch you sleep, or nurse you. Tomorrow is going to be the hardest day of my life._**

**_Please, do not be mad at me. Jess, I never intended when I was pregnant to give you up. I had some money then, but it all got spent quickly. The first month I was pregnant with you I was very sick and had huge doctor's bills. And that wasn't because of you, it was because of something that happened before you. After that, I tried to get a decent job and home for us. But, because I was pregnant, I couldn't hold onto a job or a house very long. And the money slipped away then. By the time you were born, I was living in New York, with about eight hundred dollars. And most of that money got quickly used as well, due to hospital visits and doctor's appointments. Even after you were born, I couldn't get a job, darling. I had no skills, no education after high school. I could barely take care of a baby. How could I take care of a child who would eat more, need more things. I knew that if you stayed with me, you wouldn't have much of a life. I didn't want you to grow up like the children I see on the streets. I didn't want to see you begging for food or money. You and I were both beginning to get sick. You especially. The doctor said you needed medicine...expensive medicine. There was no way in the world you would ever survive with me. So, I decided to give you to a family who would be able to take care of you. Jessamyn, that was the hardest choice of my life. And since, by the time you get this, you will have a lot of questions, I am going to try and answer some things I know you might be wondering._**

**_First of all, your name. I know Jessamyn is not very common. And I hope you like it. You see, when I was about seven months along with you, I splurged and went to a play that was in town. Everyone had been talking about it. It was the hit of the year, they were saying. I wanted to, not only go see it, but get away for a few hours. I needed a break, in a sense. Well, it was about three minutes into the show when they brought out the main character, and her name was Jessamyn. You immediately started kicking...hard, too. I knew then that I had to call you Jessamyn. Rose is, of course, my name. And I wanted you to have it as part of your own._**

**_Darling, I know you must also be wondering about your father. I don't think the story is appropriate to tell you over the letter, but I can tell you a few things. Your father, Jack Dawson, was a wonderful man. He was an artist that I met on a trip home from Europe. He grew up on a farm in Wisconsin and, when his parents died, he left home at fifteen. Jack was just twenty when I met him, and I was just barely seventeen. We were in love, deeply, and we made it through a lot of things together. But he was ripped away from me, even before I knew I was pregnant with you. I think about him every day. And I promise, once we meet again, I will tell you the story. But not now. He and I were not married. But I told everyone I had been, including the Calverts, who you know as your adoptive parents. No one, but you and I and Jack, need know what happened. Your father had the same eyes you do now, that majestic blue. And he was built lithe and strong, with soft blond hair. Jack was a wonderful person, Jessamyn. He saved me._**

**_I am going to include a photograph in this package, but I still want you to know more about me. I grew up rich and privileged. And how I ended up in this broken-down apartment is part of the story of your father. No, he did not do this to me. If anything, he helped me. I have red hair, that at the moment is long and curly. And I have blue-green eyes. I can't help but wonder how you will turn out, what you look like now. As a baby, you had your father's eyes and my build, which is stockier then your dad. I know, that whoever you look like, that you are beautiful. But let's see, my full name was Rose Marie DeWitt Bukater. But, you must never tell anyone that I was a DeWitt Bukater, Jess. It would bring us both trouble. I will explain why that is so when I tell you the story of your father and I. Now, since April of 1912, I call myself Rose Dawson, after your father. You are a Dawson as well, Jessamyn. It says so on your birth certificate, which I have. The Calverts agreed to keep your first and middle name for me, so long as they got to use Calvert instead of Dawson. They also said, that once you were told of your real family, that you could chose which last name you wanted. Whatever you choose, I know it will be a wise decision._**

**_I know that you must be confused, and possibly a little hurt, Jess. I just want you to know that I love you. I love you more then anything in this world. I hope, someday, that we will meet again. I am planning to move to Santa Monica in a little while. It's a place your father and I always planned on going to. I am not sure if I will still be there when you get this letter, but it will give you a place to start. I love you._**

**_Love,_**

**_Your mother,  
Rose Dawson_**

**Jessamyn sat back and let the letter fall to her lap, in a total state of shock. Not only was she a real, honest-to-God bastard, but her mother had also grown up in a rich family. Over the years, Jessamyn had heard a little about the DeWitt Bukaters. She knew they had lived in Philadelphia and were well off until the old man died. That was about it. Aside from all that, she now knew a little of who her father was, something that made her very happy. The only thing she was sad about was the fact that he had died before she could meet him. And, of course, her peculiar name was no longer a mystery, thank goodness.**

**As Jessamyn sat, she wondered now about her mother's past. And about her father, who seemed to have such an impact on Rose. There must be some story to it all. And she, once she found Mrs. Rose Dawson, was going to get to the bottom of it.**


	3. Chapter Two: Nothing Man

**Chapter Two**

**The next morning was spent, for the most part, at Grand Central Station. Having lived in Maine all her life, and hardly getting out much, Jessamyn had never been to New York. Well, never been to New York that she could remember. She had been there as a little baby, she now knew, and that kind of made her proud. She could happily say she had been born in New York. None of her friends back home could say the same.**

**As passengers boarded and got off the train, she watched, straining to get a glimpse of the famous skyline. Not having any luck, though, she soon gave up and focused on scaring people away from her area on the train. She sort of wanted to be by herself a while longer, to think about recent developments. Not being able to afford the first class ticket, she had to resort to third class. And third class on this train was nothing more than a seat amongst about fifty other seats. You did get your own blanket and light, though. And at least you could get up and move around if you wished to.**

**They were just getting ready to leave the station when Jessamyn, deep in her book, felt someone approach her. She looked up, worried, and saw a man carrying a bunch of luggage. Looking around, she saw that there were no other seats.**

**"Damn it," she swore under her breath, putting a piece of paper inside the book and the closing it up. She looked up at the man and raised her eyebrow.**

**"Mind if sit here? Every thing else is pretty much full," he explained, seeing her uninviting look.**

**She gave up the idea of having an area to herself and nodded. He grinned and sat down, plopping a leather portfolio and backpack at his feet.**

**Jessamyn turned toward the window as the train started to move, trying not to focus on the person next to her. How on earth was she going to get to sleep with him right there? And how was she supposed to look over the things from Rose again? Everything, especially the necklace, would raise questions. She sighed, and then glanced back at him once and found him staring off into space, his mind obviously elsewhere. How odd, she thought. He looked as if he were in sort of the same place as she was.**

**But, odd or not, an hour later Jessamyn was getting bored. She had just finished her book, was out of space in her writing notebook, and didn't want to pull her treasures out. So, she decided to make small talk with him. Her only hope was that he was getting off soon and that she would be alone again.**

**"So, where ya headed, mister?"**

**He turned toward Jessamyn and smiled slightly. "Santa Monica," he answered softy, before turning back to the way he was before.**

**_Damn it. He is going to Santa Monica, too,_**** Jessamyn thought. _I am stuck with him for another few days_. She looked at him for a moment; he wasn't bad looking. Then again, he had to be in his late thirties. He had blond hair, with a hint of gray painted here and there. It was a bit too long and hung in his face, so that he had to brush it away every few minutes. His eyes were a piercing, yet tired, blue, that brought his whole look together. Actually, the blue eyes reminded Jessamyn of some other eyes she had seen. She just couldn't figure out where from.**

**"What about you?" His question broke through her thoughts a few minutes later.**

**"Ah...I'm going to Santa Monica, too," Jessamyn answered, smiling a bit at him.**

**"Visiting family?" the man asked, shocking Jessamyn with his question. She didn't really know how to answer. She supposed she was, but then again, Rose didn't know it.**

**"Ah...sort of," Jessamyn finally said. And then, before she knew what she was doing, she felt herself explaining what was going on to this complete stranger. "I am actually looking for my mother. I was given up for adoption when I was just a month old, and, to make a long story short, I just found out and now I want to find my birth mom."**

**The man cocked his head to one side and looked at Jessamyn for a moment. She reminded him of someone. He just couldn't place it. She couldn't be much older than eighteen, he decided, and yet he felt like he knew her from somewhere. But the fact that he had been secluded from the rest of the human race for the last seventeen years reminded him that he couldn't possible have met her before, and he gave up searching his brain. Finally, he spoke again. "That must be tough," he offered sympathetically.**

**"Yeah...well," Jessamyn stuttered, trying not to think about it too much. The whole reason she was talking to this man was to get her mind off of the whole ordeal. "What about you, sir? Are you visiting family?"**

**Clouds filled in the man's eyes and a look of sorrow swept over his face. Just for a moment, though. Within a moment, the look was gone. Then he just looked at her and smiled. "No." He sighed. "Just chasing old dreams and memories."**

**Jessamyn nodded, having enough sense not to press the subject any further, even though she was intrigued deeply. "So, are you from New York, then?" she asked, changing the subject a bit.**

**"Yeah," the man answered. "But I don't get out much. I'm not really into the whole social thing anymore." He ran his hands through his blond hair and sighed heavily. "I couldn't really tell you much about the city. Sorry."**

**"That's all right. You don't need to apologize," Jessamyn said, laughing a little. "So, what are you? An artist?" she asked, pressing for more details about this mystery man. She picked up his portfolio and was about to go through it when the man grabbed it out of her hands.**

**"Do you always ask so many questions?" he asked, sounding a little annoyed, although he was smiling as he put the portfolio on the other side of his seat.**

**Jessamyn raised her eyebrow. She was even more curious as to what was in that portfolio now. It must be a big secret if he grabbed it out of her hands like that. Finally, she just shrugged. "Yes."**

**The man looked at her, and then smiled again. She looked so innocent and naive, yet he could tell there was a fire inside of her. That gift of seeing people's characters had never left him. Maybe it was the hair and that smile. God, did she reminded him of someone! If only he could place it. "Yes, I am an artist," he said, after a minute.**

**"Is that what you do for a living?"**

**The man nodded. "Sort of," he answered. "I go out once a week, sell my drawings, go to the grocery store, and then come back home. It may not be the best way to live, but I like it."**

**Jessamyn smiled. "I was looking to be a journalist myself; all signed up for college in Boston. I graduated high school last year. I skipped second grade," she explained, seeing his confused look. She didn't look like she had just graduated high school, and she knew that. "I was just too damn smart for the whole bloody thing," she said, making the man chuckle. Jessamyn smiled, and then sighed heavily. "So, yeah, I finished early. But I don't know where that whole college thing is going now," she said, shrugging her shoulders.**

**It was quiet for a minute. Jessamyn was lost in thought, and the man was watching her. He was intrigued by this young woman, and yet he still could not place why. It was bugging him terribly. He just could not shake the feeling that he knew her from someplace. And if he wasn't so damn sure he did not in fact know her, he would have given up. But it just wasn't that easy.**

**"You got a name?" he finally asked.**

**"Jessamyn Rose Calvert--well, to tell the truth, I don't really know what my last name is anymore, sir."**

**He nodded knowingly. "That's a very pretty name, Jessamyn. I've never heard it before," he stammered, trying to ignore the fact that her middle name was Rose. Just hearing that word sent chills up and down his whole body. And now he felt even odder about this young woman, for some reason. He began to break out in a sweat, and his skin became clammy.**

**"Yeah," she answered, oblivious to the man's discomfort. "I've never met another Jessamyn in my life. I guess I am blessed that way. Every girl in my class was Helen or Dorothy." She paused for a minute. "What about you, mister. You got a name?" She watched as a soft look passed over his face, and he shrugged.**

**"Jack," he answered, smiling at her. "You can just call me Jack."**


	4. Chapter Three: Lonesome Day

**  
Chapter Three**

**Santa Monica, California**

**Rose groaned as she opened up her eyes and saw that it was daylight out. Sun meant that it was morning, morning meant Monday, and Monday meant she had to get up and go to work...again. It seemed as if the cycle never ended. She always looked forward, with unexplainable joy, to Friday. She would run home from work, throw on some comfortable clothes, and then relax in the sweet release of freedom. Saturday would be spent doing whatever the hell she wanted. And then Sunday would come, with a bittersweet feeling to it. She had the day off, but there was also the reminded that Monday was less then twenty-four hours away and well, that pretty much spoiled the whole day.**

**Rose was seriously considering going back to sleep and going into work late, claiming to have had a headache or something along those lines, but as she was contemplating whether or not to do so, she remembered that today was the day that Mr. Green was coming from Chicago. She had to be there on time to make sure the shop looked decent enough. **

**The shop; a small, well-off, children's book store overlooking the coast. Rose had started it in 1915, after moving to Santa Monica in 1913 and working as a waitress until the idea for the shop came. It had done pretty well its first couple of years, but when the war hit, business boomed. Mothers came from all over the city just to buy their books for their children there, trying to make up for the men being gone. For a while now Rose had been thinking about expanding, and well, if Mr. Green liked the place enough, they were going to, with the help of his investments, make the shop into a full-fledged book store. The business opportunity was outstanding and if Rose could land this, she was well on her way...well, to somewhere. She wasn't sure where. No matter how successful she had been, she still felt an endless loneliness inside of her heart.**

**She had dated a few times, never once really connecting with the person. The relationship usually ended a few weeks after it began and last year Rose decided it was useless. She was never going to have another Jack, and she had to face that. Single life had been good to her, though, and Rose was okay with how things were going. Her world wasn't ideal, but it was fine. And she was happy so long as she occupied herself with tasks. Otherwise, if she wasn't busy, her mind would wonder and start with the "What ifs?" that she hated so much. And then the memories would flood back, and finally the tears would come and she would eventually end up crying herself to sleep.**

**Giving up to the inevitable, Rose threw back the covers and slowly got out of her lonely bed. She had never known another man besides Jack, and she somehow knew that was because she knew no one could ever measure up. He was her one and only. She was, most likely, going to die a born again virgin, and frankly, Rose was okay with that. She just wasn't sure she wanted to do anything close to love-making again unless it was with a man named Jack Dawson, with shaggy blond hair and piercing blue eyes, who loved her for her.**

**Of course, every time she thought even remotely about that time with Jack, the result of that joining came to mind--Jessamyn. From the moment Rose had found out she was pregnant, she had rejoiced with happiness. Something of Jack's was and would be forever hers. Instead of feeling ashamed of being pregnant out of wedlock, Rose had strutted about as any moral childbearing woman would. When people questioned her about the father, she flashed a purchased ring at them and then told them that he had died a few months ago. The poor victims believed her and Rose went back to being the only one who knew the truth. She had loved every minute of pregnancy and, although money started to be a problem early on, she cherished each moment. But, after Jessamyn had been born, things started to go wrong very quickly. And before Rose knew it, she had no money, no job, and was sitting in her dump of an apartment with a sick baby. After several long, sleepless nights, Rose had come to the decision that she couldn't give Jessamyn what she needed. And so, painfully, she had looked into adoption. Within a week, they had found a family for little Jessamyn, the Calverts. Giving her child up had been one of the hardest things Rose had ever done in her life, second only to trying to get over the loss of Jack; a task that hadn't been accomplished yet.**

**Attempting not the think of such things so much this early in the morning, Rose quickly got ready and then scampered off to work. On the way, she grabbed a scone and a coffee from a local breakfast place and then continued on.**

**The sun shone brightly and many people were outside, enjoying the unusually warm February weather. The day would have been perfect, except for on the way Rose noticed several shops decked out in decorations for the approaching Valentine's Day and it downed her spirits. She just wasn't in the mood to watch people express their love for each other. It just wasn't fair, to put it bluntly.**

**A bell above the door chimed as Rose entered the shop. To her surprise, everything looked relatively normal and somewhat in order. She shook her head and then started toward the back, where her office was. On the way, she passed by the check-out counter and to Rose's surprise, her assistant popped up.**

**"Hey, Mrs. Dawson!"**

**"Phoebe, I've known you for over five years now. I think it's all right if you call me by my first name," Rose called over her shoulder as she continued walking. Phoebe, a somewhat crazy, sort of off, young girl had the ridiculous habit of calling Rose by her formal title once in a while. It drove Rose crazy, and she was constantly reminding her assistant to knock it off. But aside from all that, Phoebe had become somewhat of a friend and well, Rose was quite happy that she was working here. She would be done with college next year though, and Rose could only hope to persuade her to stay in Santa Monica. A little company never hurt.**

**Her office was, unlike the shop, in complete disarray. And as she entered it, she reminded herself that Mr. Green was not to come in here. She would just put a sign on the outside of the door that said janitor or something. That would keep him away.**

**"Rose, those papers you sent for," Phoebe said suddenly, coming into her boss's office, "they came from New York." She set a stack of three big, brown, envelopes down on Rose's desk. "They feel thick. I think that's a good sign."**

**Rose picked up the first of the envelopes and ripped into it. She pulled out a stack of papers, all with readable printing on them. In her hands Rose held several lists of books from different publishers that would be willing to ship the listed products to her shop. Quickly she scanned the contents and then smiled up at Phoebe.**

**"This is great, Phoebe. Thank you."**

**Phoebe smiled and then shrugged her tiny shoulders. "No problem. I'll come and get you right before Mr. Green is supposed to show up."**

**"Okay. Oh, Phoebe wait." Her assistant turned around and came back to Rose's desk. Rose smiled and then handed Phoebe a piece of paper. "Here, can you tape this on the outside of my door. Oh, can you get me some more coffee, please?"**

**Phoebe gave Rose a weird look after looking at the paper and then nodded. "I guess. What kind of coffee do you want?"**

**Rose groaned and rubbed some sleep out of her eyes. "Oh, just black," she finally answered.**

**"All right. I'll be back in a minute," Phoebe said before leaving the room and shutting the door behind herself, leaving Rose alone. Quietly, she sighed and leaned back in the uncomfortable wooden chair. She hoped that Mr. Green was impressed with the shop. Expanding would be a great opportunity and she would love the chance.**

**For lack of anything to do at the moment, Rose reached over and pulled over the stack of books and publishers. There were some titles that she would defiantly be interested in getting, and some that looked or sounded downright awful. Thanking she had better mark which ones she wanted and didn't want, Rose started looking around for a pencil. But, since her desk was such a mess, she had no luck and a minute later came up empty handed. Discouraged, she started going through her desk drawers. One by one she searched, finding nothing. And then finally, she was left with only the very bottom one. Angry, she pulled it open harshly and stuck her hand inside. She was met with a sharp poke to her finger. Rose cursed heavily and pulled her hand out, sticking her now bleeding finger into her mouth. Mad as hell, she angrily looked back into the drawer to see what had caused the injury.**

**In disbelief, she pulled out a safety pin that was sitting on a pile of things. She held the little object up to the light and shook her head before throwing it across the room. Rose took her finger out of her mouth and rolled her eyes at the small poke. It was amazing how something so small could hurt so bad.**

**Sighing, Rose went to close the bottom drawer, giving up on the pencil. But as she was shutting it, something caught her eye. Curiously, she peered into the drawer and at the small picture that was resting there. It was of Jessamyn.**

**In a trance, Rose pulled the photo out and stared at it. Her daughter, just a day old, lay immortalized in the back and white capture. It was one of the few pictures she had of Jessamyn, and Rose wondered how on Earth it had ended up there. She continued to stare at the child until her eyes filled up with tears and her heart swelled to the point where it scared her. She jumped and threw the picture down. Standing up quickly, she started walking around the room, trying to get her daughter out of her head.**

**_That was a very bad idea, _****she told herself. _God, you idiot_! She should have never even picked up the picture in the first place. It was like accidentally shooting herself in the stomach. It caused nothing but pain and trouble.**

**A knock on the door startled her and Rose spun around just as Phoebe walked in.**

**"Here is your coffee, Rose," her assistant said cheerfully, handing Rose the steaming cup of liquid.**

**Rose gratefully grabbed it out of her hands, mumbled a thanks, and then gulped it down quickly. The caffeine got into her veins and she felt a little better almost immediately. Just the smell of the drink caused her brain to relax and her head to clear. As soon as she calmed down, Rose turned and looked at Phoebe, who was staring at her.**

**"What?" Rose asked rudely, trying to get her to back off.**

**"Uh, nothing," Phoebe stammered, averting her eyes and starting to move around. "Um…Mr. Green should be here any minute," she said, putting some mail on Rose's desk. "So, yeah, if you want to be out there when he arrives..."**

**Rose nodded curtly. "Okay, thank you, Phoebe."**

**Phoebe shook her head and then left the room quickly, not bothering to close the door behind herself. Rose closed her eyes and took a deep breath.**

**_Dear Lord, just let me get through this next hour,_**** she prayed before opening her eyes back up and blinking. "Here goes," she whispered as she left the office, pushing the door back as she walked out and shutting it with a thud.**


	5. Chapter Four: Leave it all Behind

  
Chapter Four

**A thud awoke Jessamyn late in the night, causing her to jump and blink her eyes open in surprise. Groaning, she looked around to see what had caused the noise and stared in hatred at the stupid person who had dropped a stack of books right in front of her seat. The dark-haired woman was scrabbling to pick the items up while other passengers shook their heads. Jessamyn rolled her eyes and sighed heavily.**

**"Damn train is never quiet," she mumbled tiredly as she turned over, put her pillow up against the cold window, and then leaned against it. _Who in the hell carried books through a train in the middle of the night? _she wondered angrily. _Now it's going to take me forever to get back to sleep._**

**She was right. A half hour later, Jessamyn was still conscious and was no closer to any sort of shuteye. And she was mad. Lack of sleep always made her irritable and drowsy, and this was not the time to get like that. There were set to arrive in Santa Monica at around ten the next morning. She needed to have her wits about her if she was going to start the search for Rose.**

**Jessamyn started to ponder what to do next when something out of the corner of her eye caught her attention. It was Mr. Jack's sketchbook. The leather portfolio was resting on top of his bag, drawing her to it like a kid to ice cream on a summer day. She looked around for a minute, and after determining that no one else was up, reached over and poked Mr. Jack in the arm. He swatted her hand away, but didn't wake up.**

**"What an interesting development..." she muttered quietly to herself as she slowly and cautiously reached over. Quickly, she snatched it up and turned away so that her back was to Jack. She waited a few minutes, and then, as all was still quiet, she started to open the sketchbook. Inside, she came to find, were drawing after drawing, all of them in charcoal and all of them very well done. Jessamyn was impressed. This Mr. Jack was quite an artist. There was a prevalent theme, though, she noticed as she flipped through. All of the drawings, although detailed and noteworthy, were awfully violent and disturbing. They all reflected a dark sense that confused Jessamyn. Mr. Jack, reserved and quiet as he was, seemed nice and peaceful. His drawings, though, were certainly something else. She didn't quite understand it. And they got worse as she went along. Scenes of funerals and graveyards began to show, and then, she came across something that shocked her completely. It was a highly detailed drawing depicting some sort of water death scene. Bodies were strung across the dark water off into the dark horizon. Jessamyn tilted her head to the side and looked more carefully. All the people appeared to be dead, frozen in what she assumed was chilling water. She was even more horrified to see a mother with her baby, both of them apparently lifeless.**

**"What the..." she wondered out loud. She could not, for the life of her, figure out what the hell this was. Again, she turned the paper over and was met with another disturbingly detailed drawing. This one was of a man sitting upon a board in the middle of the same water death scene. His face was that of someone who was truly lost and alone. But strangely the man, other than his clothes and something around his wrists, had no defining characteristics. Jessamyn continued to turn the pages, met again and again with the frightful images. None of it made sense to her.**

**After a while, she finally put the portfolio away and then sank back in her seat. She still wondered intently what Mr. Jack was thinking. Maybe he had gone through something terrible, and this was his way of expressing this anger. Jessamyn closed her eyes and tried to think. No wonder he didn't want her to see them. There had to be something in his past that affected him still today; many of the drawings were dated recently. She wondered what that might be until she drifted off into sleep a while later, still unaware as to how greatly affected her own life was by this man and his drawings.**

*********

**That same night Jessamyn had peeked into Mr. Jack's portfolio, Rose was back in Santa Monica going though some emotional turmoil herself. She had made the mistake of letting Phoebe, who had decided that Rose needed to get out more, take her to a dancing club type place down the street from the bookstore. The meeting with Mr. Green had gone unbelievably well, and she thought they should celebrate the expansion of the shop. It had sounded good to Rose at first.**

**She now sat on a bar stool, drinking what tasted like very badly made bootlegged beer of some sort--she had just taken what Phoebe had gone off and shown up with. It really was horrible, but for some reason she kept drinking it until she had finished three glasses. And bad or not, the drink was starting to take an effect on her. She hadn't had alcohol of any sort in years, not since the war had ended, and her body wasn't used to it. That, and the combination of strong smoke and body odor, were causing her senses to disappear. She wasn't really aware of her personal being and felt herself start to let go. All at once, she wanted it all to go away and so she grabbed the first available man and dragged him out onto the dance floor, hoping to forget it all, just for a little bit.**

**Rose allowed herself to be taken back as she was spun around by this stranger, back to a different place, years ago. And after a while, she heard Irish music and people laughing, endlessly laughing. Then the smell of the bar faded away, and she smelt him; that strong and rich sandalwood scent that was so familiar to her. And then, this arms were around her, holding her tightly against his body.**

**_"I don't know the steps..."_**

**_"Neither do I. Just go with it..."_**

**And then endless spinning, spinning and spinning and spinning, around and around until she was dizzy. Then Jack finally had stopped and held her up, to keep her from falling. They had smiled at each other, and then it was off again, dancing into the night. She felt that way now, the release that she had felt that night.**

**"Oh, Jack, I've missed you." She wasn't aware she was speaking out loud until a different voice, that not of his, broke through her thoughts.**

**"Lady, who the hell is Jack?"**

**Rose opened her eyes and blinked, expecting Jack and instead finding the rugged man with a scratchy beard where he should have been. And she then was thrown into reality. There was a moment of silence and then she screamed--what, she couldn't comprehend. All she knew was that she screamed and ran as fast as she could, pushing everyone out of the way as she left.**

**Then she was running down the beach, so quickly that she was afraid that her legs would detach from her body. She felt like a child again, endlessly running and running. Until finally she stopped suddenly and stared at her house. The waves crashed behind her, providing the only sound. She knew that she would go in there and then be all alone...once again. He wasn't there, and never was going to be. Another dose of reality hit her and then it happened. She became sick and ran into the water, vomiting up what seemed like the last week of her food all at once. The strange thing was, she didn't even care. It was like it was happening to her without actually happening. Like some dream that she was in. And then, when it was all over, she sank down into the freezing January water, just letting the cold ocean surround her. It was therapeutic, in a way, and after a while she began to feel better. Slowly, she made her way up to her house and made it inside. Once she was in the confines of her bedroom, she slammed the door shut and then closed all the shades. As fast as she could, she stripped off the cold, wet clothes she had been wearing until she was completely nude. It was then that she flopped down on the bed.**

**Rose still couldn't think straight. Everything was just a big blur. But she felt more relaxed and calm, despite the fact that she was going crazy. She reached over and picked up a small candle off the bedside table. After looking at it for a moment, she brought it up to her nose and smelled it--sandalwood. Slowly, she began to drift off to sleep, keeping the candle to her nose. It smelled like Jack, and she wanted it beside her as she succumbed to her fatigue. At least, in this way, she could pretend he was here and that everything was indeed okay, not falling apart. And this way, she didn't seem so alone.**


	6. Chapter Five: Counting on a Miracle

  
Chapter Five

**Santa Monica  
Early March, 1931**

**With a cling sound, Jessamyn triumphantly closed the cash register and smiled. Finally, it was her lunch break! An hour to do whatever she wanted before it was back to work again. This dull, worthless job got more annoying and pointless by the day. What she really wanted was nothing more than to quit and make her living as an actress or writer, anything that was more glamorous or exciting than a waitress. But no, she was stuck here, forced into this little world of sandwiches and hungry adolescents. It was her fault, of course. She had dragged herself down here, and she realized that. But it was still tedious and she still wanted out.**

**Humming happily, she reached behind her dress and undid the apron stings. The boring white garment fell limp before she swiped it over her head and hung it on a nearby hook. She straightened her dress, pulled up one sock that had fallen down, and wiped some loose hair from her face. Her strawberry blonde hair fell loose from the disgusting hair net as she pulled the white mesh from her head and threw it in a nearby trashcan.**

**"I'm off, Billy," she called to her co-worker, who signaled her with a slight nod of his head. She laughed, and grabbed her purse and jacket from underneath the counter before she took off out of the little deli. She was dreadfully hungry, but after serving sandwiches and soup for the last four hours, she wanted something different. The sight of another ham-and-cheese sandwich would make her sick. Just the smell was enough to drive someone crazy after a while.**

**After leaving, Jessamyn crossed the street and started walking up the block to where she knew there was a nice little burger joint where she could get a good-sized salad for cheap. The sun was shining, but even so, it was cold for early March, as it had been for the past couple of weeks. Jessamyn pulled on her jacket as she walked. She hated the cold even more than she hated extreme heat. Spring and fall she would take, but summer and winter? Anyone else that wanted them could have them. She couldn't explain what it was, but there was something about the cold that rubbed her the wrong way. It was like she had been through some traumatizing experience with it as a child that she had forgotten about, and now it haunted her. Or, she sometimes thought, it could have been from a nightmare from long ago that still affected her. Either way, she hated the cold. At least Santa Monica was one of the warmer places you could be in the United States this time of year.**

**There were not a lot of people out and about; just a few couples here and there, the few local workers that never seemed to leave, and one or two tourists. With the promise of spring just around the corner, everyone she saw seemed to be in a good mood, despite the chilly weather. A few people even waved as they passed, or mumbled a hello, which Jessamyn was quick to respond to. She, too, was in a good mood, despite her complaints about her job and the lack of success she was having trying to find Rose.**

**The wind was just picking up as Jessamyn hurriedly rushed into the salad place a few minutes later. She smiled when she saw the regular bunch of people. Old Mr. Johnson and his wife, who were always eating lunch there at twelve o'clock on the dot, every day, were there. Also included in the bunch were some of the students from the nearby college, a couple of the dock workers out on their breaks, and some younger kids who were obviously supposed to be in school. A few waved as she approached the counter and then gave the boy her order. He tallied up her total and, as she was paying, Jessamyn saw out of the corner of her eye Charles Beaumont come walking through the door.**

**"Why, Miss Jessamyn...fancy seeing you here!" he exclaimed teasingly as soon as he noticed her, which didn't take very long. He came strutting up to the counter and stood beside her, giving her a tiny pat on the back as he did so. Jessamyn grinned at him as he greeted her.**

**"Hey, Charlie," she said in response to her lunch buddy. Charlie had been there the first day Jessamyn had walked in and he, seeing that she was with nobody, offered to let her sit with him. She had sat down, and since then a friendship had begun to blossom. They ate lunch together most of the time, except on Saturday and Sunday, when they both had the day off, or on Tuesday's when Charlie had an extra class. He was putting himself through college by working down at the docks before and after classes. It wasn't a very glamorous job; cleaning up after sailors, moving crates of seafood, and catering to his superior's needs, but as he put it, "It was a job."**

**Charlie mentioned to the boy behind the counter that he would have whatever Jessamyn was having, making her laugh. Charlie eating a salad? It didn't seem possible.**

**"What happened to the ole standby?" she asked as they walked to an empty booth, referring to Charlie's usual lunch menu consisting of a big juicy hamburger that made Jessamyn's stomach churn. She wasn't one for red meat.**

**"Eh, I decided a change was in order," he said as they sat down, but he offered no other explanation. Then he smiled in a silly, cheesy way that made Jessamyn chuckle. Charlie was handsome, no doubt, but he had a charm about him that made you just want to laugh sometimes. His brown hair was always falling in his face, and his dark brown eyes were always secretive, like he knew something about you that you didn't, and he wasn't about to tell you. And Jessamyn would never admit to noticing it, but because he worked outside half of the day, he had developed a rich tan, not to mention firm muscles that could be seen through his tee shirts if he were wearing one. Sadly, today was not such a day and he had donned a coat in response to the cold. He had grown up in New Orleans, which had obviously caused him to have a deep Southern accent that still flew unchanged when he spoke. He spoke French quiet fluently as well, having learned, from, among other people, his grandmother. All those traits came together to produce this funny, energetic, not to mention handsome, person that Jessamyn couldn't help attach herself too. She liked him. Not in any sort of romantic way, of course, but she liked having him around.**

**Their food came before long and they ate pretty much in silence, aside from some pointless topics like the weather and sports. But soon Charlie brought up a question out of the blue that took Jessamyn by surprise.**

**"So, today are you going to tell me what you're doing here?"**

**Jessamyn tilted her head to one side and looked at him strangely. "What do you mean?" She unknowingly started twirling a strand of her hair with her index finger, a habit she had picked up as a child.**

**Charlie took a sip of his water and laughed. "Come on, Jessamyn, you know what I mean. Why are you in Santa Monica? I don't believe you're just hanging out as a waitress." He smiled and nonchalantly took a bite of his salad.**

**Jessamyn dropped the strand of hair and didn't say anything for a few minutes. Charlie waited patiently as she contemplated what to say. He just kept on eating in almost this annoying way, as if he were teasing her. In her mind, she scanned the contents of the last month. She had got down here, started out living in a hotel, and then moved to an apartment once she got her first paycheck. Her search for Rose was still going very slow; she hadn't found any new leads in weeks. It was pretty much non-existent, in fact. There really wasn't much to tell Charlie besides the first part of the ordeal.**

**"Do you want the truth, or some lame story?" Jessamyn asked finally, not really knowing why. She knew what his answer would be. He just broke into a bigger smile, and didn't answer her. She sighed and closed her eyes for a moment. How was she going to approach this?**

**"Basically," she heard herself saying a few moments later, "I was given up for adoption when I was a month old. I just found out a month and a half ago, and now I am out here looking for my mom. This was her last known residence." She laughed. "Pretty crazy, huh?"**

**Charlie shook his head. He was more shocked then he showed. He didn't want Jessamyn to think he was some sort of sissy, or that it was really that big of a deal. It was big, of course, but he didn't want to irritate any emotions she might be holding back. He didn't know if she was really doing okay with it or not. "I think it's great. You were really given up for adoption?"**

**She nodded slowly. "Yeah, they never told me, either. I'm such an idiot. I can't believe I never knew." She took a deep breath and rolled her eyes. "I mean, you think I would have realized when I was shorter than the rest of my family, when all my siblings ended up with a way different hair color. But no, I was so far out of it that I never knew."**

**"Wow, Jess, I can't even imagine that," he said after a few moments. She was looking pretty distracted now; her mood had definitely changed. "You've held up pretty well, I have to say. You seem to be pretty calm and collected. At least from what I've seen," he said, in between bites of his salad.**

**"Thanks," she mumbled. "It's just hard, you know?" Jessamyn sighed and looked down at her half-eaten lunch. She wasn't as hungry anymore. "I mean, what if this is a pointless campaign? What if, by chance, I do find her, and she hates me? She doesn't want anything to do with me. Or what if I don't find her at all, then where do I go?"**

**Charlie reached across the table and put his hand over hers. She looked up and saw that he was giving her a soft smile. "Hey, gardez la foi. Whatever happens is suppose to happen. And if you need someone to talk to, I'm here."**

**Jessamyn smiled softly. His comments meant a lot to her, especially since she knew he was telling the truth. "You know I don't speak much French past bonjour," she teased in reply. She had come to realize that sometimes he would speak French without noticing it. "But seriously, thank you, Charlie."**

**He stood, threw a couple of coins on the table for the waiter, and then nodded to Jessamyn. He hated to leave, but if he didn't he would be late. "No problem. Now, if you'll excuse me, I must be off. I have a class in twenty minutes. " He grinned at her and then said, "Au revoir, Jessamyn."**

**She rolled her eyes. "Good-bye," she called after him as he walked out of the cafe. He stopped in front of the window outside and smiled, and then waved before he scampered off for good. Jessamyn grinned, her heart fluttering unexpectedly.**

*********

**After work, late that night, Jessamyn was at home getting ready for dinner when she heard the doorbell ring. She set down the glass of water she had been holding and made her way to the door, confused as to who it might be. She didn't really know anyone that would stop by like this.**

**When she opened the door, she was shocked to see Charlie standing in front of her. He had a big, ridiculous smile on his face and was carrying a stack of papers in his hands.**

**"Hey," he greeted her. "You have a minute?"**

**"Yeah, come in," Jessamyn said, excited, but still confused by his unexpected visit. The chicken was going to have to wait! Charlie must have something important to show her if he was just dropping by. She moved aside to let him through, and then closed the door behind him. "What brings you to my humble home? And how did you know where I lived?"**

**"I got Billy to tell me what building you lived in, then I just asked the man downstairs, who by the way is not very nice, which apartment you were in." He turned his back to her as he did this, and she used this time to straighten up. Inwardly, she groaned; she didn't want him seeing her in the dirty, ugly old apron she had on. Or the grungy dress, but that couldn't be helped. And her hair! Why couldn't it be tame for once? She frantically tried to smooth it down with her hands. He turned around just as she had finished, and she smiled.**

**"Oh," Jessamyn mumbled, feeling a little stupid as they just stood there; he probably had known what she had been doing. She didn't know why she was acting to silly around him. It was just Charlie. She shook her head and cleared her throat before motioning to her couch. "Here, sit down. Do you want something to drink?"**

**"Nah, that's okay. Thanks," Charlie said as he sat. He waved her over, that silly smile still on his face. "Come here."**

**Jessamyn came over and sat down next to him, still wondering what on earth this was all about.**

**"I have here," Charlie excitedly went on to say, "the list of all the registered voters in the city last year." He raised his eyebrows and grinned. "Care to take a look?"**

**Her jaw dropped as she reached over and took half of the stack of papers. "How on earth did you get this?" she asked, amazed at what he had just walked in with. Without waiting for an answer, she began to frantically search through names that adorned the paper.**

**"I know a girl that works for the auditor. She's kind of on his good side, if you know what I mean." Charlie looked over and gave Jessamyn a teasing smile. "Anyway, I dropped by and asked if she could get the lists for me."**

**Jessamyn looked at him, totally shocked. "Wow," she breathed. "I didn't even know that they kept these kinds of lists. This is so great!" She smiled at him and then went back to searching for the page that contained the D last names.**

**"I didn't know either," Charlie explained as he watched her excitedly look. "But apparently they do. It's just the names. It doesn't say how the person voted." Jessamyn nodded to acknowledge him, but she didn't look up or say anything. Charlie sat there for a moment before it occurred to him that he should be looking as well. "Um, what name am I looking for?"**

**Jessamyn looked up and gave him an apologetic look. "Oh, I forgot, sorry. You're looking for a Rose Dawson."**

**"All right," he mumbled to himself, as he started to search through the papers like Jessamyn was. It was quiet for a few minutes as they looked at their sets. Jessamyn began to get frustrated as she flipped and flipped but couldn't even find the D's. It seemed as if there were a million last names that started with A, and then just as many B's. And then, her stack of papers ended with C's. She must have handed Charlie the list she needed.**

**"Did you find anything?" she asked a few minutes after she finished with her lists. She was becoming restless. This was going to give her a good idea if Rose was still around or not. And with no new leads in weeks, this would certainly be a fortunate find if she were indeed on the list.**

**Charlie held his index finger and ran his other one down the list. He started nodding and smiling at the same time. "I've got the D's," he said after a moment, shocking Jessamyn with the excitement that was in his voice.**

**Jessamyn's eyes brightened and she quickly moved closer to Charlie, so that she could look over his shoulder. She tried to ignore the little spark of electricity she felt when her head softly bumped against his body. All she wanted to concentrate on was Rose.**

**They were both scanning the list when suddenly Jessamyn's eyes suddenly saw something. She gasped and excitedly pointed it a name three-fourths of the way down the page. Dawson, Rose was printed right there, in bold black letters. Her hand flew to her mouth and her eyes filled with unexpected tears. Her mother's name stared back at her like a treasure chest that she had just opened. Proof that Rose was still here was now hers.**

**When she finally found her voice again, she thanked Charlie profusely, to which he just laughed. He was embarrassed over the fuss she was making, and started to blush.**

**"It was nothing, Jess," he mumbled modestly.**

**Jessamyn shook her head and threw her arms around his neck. "I don't think so," she said, before kissing his cheek. "It's one of the nicest things anyone has done for me in a long time."**

**Charlie was even more flushed now as he wiped off the place where she had kissed him. He didn't know what to say anymore. And maybe that was a good thing, because Jessamyn had gone off talking about all the things that she was sure of now and of all the plans she had. He had stopped listening until she burst forth and said, "Come to the library with me tomorrow."**

**"What?"**

**"In all those detective stories, the people always find something at the library," she explained as her face lit up. "Oh, this is so great, Charlie! I don't know why I didn't think of it before."**

**He just stared at Jessamyn. She was a little more excited then he had expected her to be. In fact, she was a little ecstatic, and it almost worried him. He didn't know if this library idea of hers was going to work, but he would love to spend more time with her. So he shrugged his shoulders and said, "What the heck. I will go with you. What do you say to ten o'clock?"**

**Jessamyn stopped fussing around and turned to smile at him. "It sounds great. Thanks," she said truthfully.**

**Charlie shrugged again, amidst gathering the list together. After he was finished, he stood up and came over to her. "No problem," he said, making her grin. "Now, if you excuse me, I must be going." He gave her an affectionate tug on the ear, and then started across the room toward the door. "I'll see you tomorrow?" he asked as he opened the door.**

**Jessamyn nodded and leaned against the doorframe as he stepped out into the hall. "Yeah. Thanks again."**

**Charlie smiled at her. "Okay. Good night, then."**

**"Bye," Jessamyn said softly, before closing the door with a soft click. Her heart was so full of excitement that she thought it might burst. Rose was alive and, as far as they could tell, was still living here in Santa Monica. It was so amazing, she could hardly believe it. And she owed so much of it to Charlie now. She softly laughed to herself for no real reason. She just felt like it. Things were turning out so well, and she couldn't be more thrilled.**


	7. Chapter Six: Worlds Apart

Back With You

Chapter 6 

Charlie shoved his hands into his coat pockets and shivered in the morning cold. He looked once again toward the street but did not see Jessamyn walking toward him. Sighing, which caused a puff of visible air to escape his mouth, he began to shift his weight back and forth between his feet. A dense fog had set in overnight and the temperatures had dropped well below the norm. Charlie was absolutely freezing, having not thought to wear heavier clothes, and was regretting saying he would meet Jessamyn outside the library. He checked his watch for what seemed like the millionth time, and saw that it was not quite ten. Knowing Jessamyn, she would be right on time, not a minute before or less. 

He shook his head and smiled; Jessamyn. Knowing her had certainly been an adventure so far. She was definitely not your average girl. Her stories of growing up in a small town near the coast in Maine and all the fun and crazy adventures she had been through really impressed him. Some of the things she had done on a dare or had gotten herself into certainly rivaled some of his tales of growing up in New Orleans with all of its Creoles, voodoo priestess, fortunetellers, and all around French flair. He just loved listing to her talk; her voice was so cultured and soft, musical even. She had a real gift of story telling that just drew you in, an artist with her words. Plus, she wasn't your typical giggly, no-brained girl like all the ones that seemed to be around currently. She knew what was important and she liked to have real fun.  Charlie had no doubt that she would find her birth mother, no matter what it took. 

He was still thinking about her when suddenly there was a tap on his back. He spun around and saw Jessamyn grinning at him. Her cheeks were red with the cold and she was bundled up in an over-the-top coat and scarf. 

"Ready?" she asked cheerfully.

Charlie nodded and started walking up toward the entrance, with Jessamyn right next to him. She looked like an overstuffed teddy bear with her clothes, but he didn't say so. It was endearing really. "You are right on time," he observed as he opened the door for her. 

Jessamyn chuckled as she walked into the library. "Would you be surprised if I wasn't?" she asked when Charlie caught up with her. 

Charlie shook his head. Of course he wouldn't be surprised. She grinned and then unbuttoned her coat as so not to get to warm. "Where shall we start?" she asked, answering her own question as she led him towards the local reference section. She had been here enough to know where everything was. It was nice; she didn't have to bother the silly librarian with questions now. 

Quickly, she went over to one of the large tables and set her purse upon it, claiming it as her own. Charlie looked her over, wondering how on earth she could have so much energy right now. She looked up and gave him an expectant look. Expectant for what, he didn't know, but he did look suddenly down at the floor, embarrassed that she had caught him staring.

"Ah, I'll go get some books," he said quickly, blushing, before he rushed off. 

Jessamyn watched him go. His mannerism certainly had changed. It was strange, she thought, as she sat down in one of the uncomfortable chairs. Before their little meeting last night, she was sure they had just been friends. But now she what thinking that maybe he was thinking of her as something more. He had come over pretty late for decent company last night and she'd caught him staring at her more then once, among other little things like holding the door open for her. That must mean something. She smirked to herself. Well, well, well, Mr. Beaumont had developed a tiny crush had he? She could have some fun with this before she decided whether or not she even liked the idea of Charlie being smitten with her. Course, she would have to be careful; her suspicions might not even be right. 

Before long, he came back carrying three big books. Sighing, he set them down in front of Jessamyn and then took his seat. She turned the spines to face her and read the titles. They were all records of the local businesses for the past three years. Grinning, she slowly moved her chair closer to Charlie and looked up at him with a sweet, questioning look. 

"How did you know these would be here?" she asked in breathy, amazed voice. 

Charlie swallowed as he noticed how close she was. Dammit, what was wrong with him? He shook his head quickly and then said, "Ah, I had to use them a while back ago for a paper."

"Hmmm," Jessamyn sighed happily, knowing the effect she was having on him. This was fun! But enough of it for right now, she had work to do. She turned her attention back to the books and pulled one of them off the top of the pile, handing it to Charlie. After she had selected her own, the most recent list, she opened it up. She was immediately met with a list of names and businesses, none of which had any meaning to her. 

"How do I use this?" she asked in all seriousness. She couldn't figure out which were titles of businesses and which were people's names, besides the obvious things like "Café Santa Monica."

"The names of the owners are in the back; there is an index. Just see if 'Dawson, Rose' is back there and if none of these books have her, then we can go onto something else."

Jessamyn nodded and then flipped toward the back of the book. After finding the 'D' last names, she quickly ran her finger down the list. Her heart jumped in excitement when she found a series of Dawson's right in a row. 

"Albert, Joseph, Marie…" she quietly read outloud, getting nervous as she came closer to the end of the list, this was it. Oscar, Paul, and then, holy mother of god, Rose! She was right there! Jessamyn jumped up as her eyes widened in amazement. "Holy shit!" she exclaimed loudly without even realizing it. Several people turned around and shushed her, as well as giving her some disapproving looks. Jessamyn just sat down, not bothering to apologize, and pointed at the name. "She's here, right there…see look!" she exclaimed, quieter this time. Charlie looked over to where she was pointing at he broke into a smile.

"Well, look at that!" he said, proud of himself. But Jessamyn hadn't heard him. She was frantically searching for a page number. When she found it, she threw open that page and ran her finger down the first column of names, and then the next. 'Dawson, Rose' was at the bottom of the page and Jessamyn could hardly breathe when she found it. Excitedly, she read what it said outloud to Charlie. 

"Dawson, Rose. "Avid Readers Bookshop" 1913 West Sundance Boulevard. Owner: Rose Dawson. Telephone: 525-5555."

Jessamyn sat in amazement as she read the words over and over to herself. How odd, it was, knowing that her mother was now just a cab trip or a telephone call away. She felt like she was going to throw up and like she should scream in happiness at the same time. She couldn't wait to see her, but at the same time, she was nervous. What would happen when she showed up? How would Rose react? This morning, she hadn't had a clue where her mother was. Now it was right in front of her face. 

"Jess?" Charlie had noticed her slip off into her little trance and he was slightly worried. He thought she would have reacted differently, with more shouting and smiling. But she just sat there with a strange look on her face, like she didn't know what the think anymore. Softly, he placed a hand on her shoulder. She turned toward him quickly, as if just realizing that he was there. "You all right?" he asked gently. 

She nodded, still in her trance. She felt kind of numb all of the sudden and she felt like she right get sick. Slowly, she looked down at the floor instead of at Charlie. He was making her feel even weaker. 

Charlie reached out and lifted her chin up with his index finger. "Hey… head up young person," he told her, repeating the phrase his grandmother had said to him so many times over the years. The only difference was, when she had said it, it had been in French. 

Jessamyn managed a smile. "I'm sorry," she mumbled, finally coming back to reality. "It just shocked me was all." She shook her head in an attempt to clear her thoughts. It was so much at once though, so overwhelming. "Thank you Charlie," she finally managed to get out. She reached over and gave him a quick, innocent kiss on the cheek. 

He blushed a deep read color and bashfully brushed away whatever was left of her kiss. "Don't worry about it," he stammered as he stood up quickly, closing up the books and then stacking them in a pile. "What are you going to do now?" he asked, changing the subject from the kiss and the thank you. 

Jessamyn shrugged as she too stood up, "I'm not sure. I can't just show up at her house or business, whatever it is. And I definitely can't go today. I think I just need to think for a while." She sighed heavily, zipping up her coat as she did so. "What do you think I should do?" she asked Charlie. 

He shrugged, "Its not my decision Jess." 

She nodded softly. "Yeah, I know…" she trailed off and then started walking out of the room. Charlie pushed the books into the middle of the table and then jogged toward her until he caught up with her. She was walking quite fast, almost in a mad dash, looking at the floor the whole time. He was worried that she would run into someone or something if she didn't pick her head up, not to mention causing a disturbance if she continued to stalk out of here like this. 

"Do you want me to walk you home?" he asked, putting his hand on her shoulder. She stopped and turned around. 

"I you don't mind," she said quietly before turning around again. She started walking again, slower this time, and Charlie followed her until they were outside where he caught up with her again. Gently, he draped his arm around her shoulder- not in any romantic way, just a friendly sort of side hug- and kept it there. She didn't shrug it off, which was a good sign, but then again he wasn't even sure she noticed it there. She just kept walking in her little trace she had slipped back in to. Charlie tried to place himself in her situation, but it was hard; he'd never had to go through anything like this before. He could appreciate how confusing and nerve-racking all of this was though. But relating personally would be impossible. At the very least though, he could be her friend. After all, she had to be lonely right now right? Maybe she just needed someone to be there for her. 

"It will be alright Jess. Whatever happens is suppose to happen," he said softly after a few minutes. He didn't look at her, she didn't look at him. They just kept walking.  Finally, after what seemed like forever, he felt her head move. 

"I know," she said softly before laying her head on his shoulder. She didn't say anything else after that. Charlie knew he should shut up, and so he did. 

Jessamyn was glad he had stopped talking. She just needed someone to be around right now. Her mind wouldn't make up its mind on what to do. One side was saying she should wait a while, give it a good long think-over. After all, this was going to affect all of them very much. But the other side of her wanted desperately to see her mother, to solve all the cloudy enigma's that surrounded Rose's past.  She sighed heavily and Charlie tightened his hold on her. After that, she inwardly smiled; at least he was a steady force right now.  Silently, he walked her home, her mind pounding what would unfold next, no matter how the next few days would unfold. 


	8. Chapter Seven: Miles to Go

Back With You

Chapter Seven

A few days later Jessamyn stood across the street from Rose's shop, staring blankly at the store. It had taken her a great deal of time and courage (and prodding from Charlie) before she had decided that today she would do it, today she would meet her mother. 

She had been so nervous that morning that she didn't even eat, just guzzled down some coffee and then called in sick to work with a "cold" that had been going around. Charlie had called later, to wish her good luck, and had offered to come over. She told him that no, thank you, she would be fine, eventually, and that she could do this by herself. And so, grabbing a coat and an umbrella, she had made her way across town, to where she was now.

It hadn't started raining yet, but it looked like it would. Jessamyn didn't get it; she had always heard that California was always sunny. But it seemed like it was raining a quarter of the time and if it wasn't rain, there was a chance of it. It was almost as bad as Maine in the springtime. At least in Santa Monica it didn't flood every April like it always seemed to do at her old house.   

A car rushed by, knocking Jessamyn out of her thoughts. Again, she went over what she was going to do once she got in there, for the millionth time that day. She would ask to speak with Rose privately, and then see where things went from there. Her heart started racing with adrenalin when she thought about it. It made her excited and want to throw up at the same time.

After a few more minutes, she realized she was going to have to go sooner or later. So, with a deep breath, she checked both ways, waited until it was clear, and then ran across the street. Approaching the entrance, her shaking hand reached out and grasped the doorknob. This was it; now or never.

Her heart trembling, she pushed open the door and then was vaguely aware of the little bell that ran when she walked in. There were quiet a few people around, a lot of customers and then one girl behind the counter. Jessamyn was pretty sure that the woman wasn't Rose; she was far too young and her hair was blonde and straight. She began to calm down a little bit as she made her way to the counter. The first part was over; she was inside.  One step at a time Jess, she reminded herself. At least you are here. 

"May I help you?" the woman behind the counter suddenly asked, startling Jessamyn. She hadn't noticed she was actually standing next to the counter. Suddenly she was very nervous again. She set her umbrella down on the counter top and took a deep breath. 

"Um...I, well," Jessamyn stuttered with the words, not knowing what to say. "I, I, I'm looking for Rose...Dawson," she finally said, her voice quivering. "Is she here?"

The woman shook her head. "No, sorry miss, she just left for her lunch break, she won't be back for a about an hour. 

Jessamyn was relieved and disappointed at the same time. What was she going to do now? If she gave up, she knew it would take days to get her courage up to where it was again. But, what was she to do? Rose wasn't here. 

"Do you want to talk to her? I'm Phoebe by the way; I've worked with her for a while. I can take your name and phone number, if you want, and then I can have her call you and set up a meeting time."

No, that wouldn't work either. She couldn't talk to Rose over the phone. Think, Jessamyn, think. C'mon, there has to be something! You're a clever girl Jess. 

"Ah, you know what, can I just leave my name and then I'll get back to her, maybe this afternoon?" That might work, leave her first name and then give Rose a little bit of a warning. 

Phoebe nodded. "Yeah," she said, breaking off a piece of white paper from a pad and handing it to Jessamyn.  "Just let me take care of these other people and I'll get back to you."

"Do you have a pen or something I could use?" Jessamyn asked, and then, without thinking, leaned over the counter and started looking for one. Phoebe didn't seem to mind; just nodded and motioned for her to look around, she was still busy with the other customers.  Something immediately caught her eye, and it wasn't a pen.  It was a letter sitting on a top of a pile, addressed to a Rose Dawson. It was unopened, and more importantly, had a different address from the one at the store. Jessamyn realized it had to be her mother's home address and without meaning to, gasped. Quickly, she committed the words to memory and stood back up straight. 

"You know what, just tell her a Jessamyn stopped by," she said hurriedly as she repeated the address over and over in her head. 

Phoebe nodded absentmindedly, and Jessamyn doubted she had even heard her. But even so, she left the store and started running down the block. It was a long shot, but maybe, just maybe, Rose was at her house eating lunch. It would be better this way, if they could talk without being in a public place.

It seemed like it had taken hours, but really had just been a few minutes before she had found her way through a maze of streets and to her mother's house. Now she stood in front of that, staring at it the way she had the store. There was a small mailbox next to the corner of the driveway, and the same Dawson was printed across the front of it in white letters. That was all the proof Jessamyn needed; she had found the place. This was really it now. But, she had to do this quickly, before her courage left her like it kept threaten to do. Promptly, she made her way up the walk and knocked on the front door, her heart pounding from the excitment and all of the running. 

There was no answer.

"Hello," Jessamyn called timidly, as a distant clasp of thunder suddenly sounded. She knocked again, this time louder. Still, no one came to the store. This wasn't working very well. Jessamyn began to pound on the door, all hope leaving her. 

"Can anyone hear me?" she called, more urgently this time. "Hello!" 

It had started to rain by now. Jessamyn, not wanting to admit defeat, sunk down on the front step and leaned against the house, pulling the hood of her coat up over her head. She was very close to crying in a mixture of anger and disappointment. This was turning out to be more of a stressful day then she had planned on. And, in addition to everything else, she was exhausted and it was raining. She sighed heavily and closed her eyes, confused on what to do next.

****

Rose, meanwhile, was having a shit time to. The morning had gone all wrong; she had woken up on the wrong side of the bed again, after some terrifying dreams, the shop had been packed, and by the time lunch rolled around, she was exhausted. All she had wanted to do was go to a sandwich place and get a little lunch, but even that had taken tons of effort. When she had shown up, the place had been packed. And when she finally placed her order, they said it would take at least a half an hour because one of their employees was out sick and they were shorthanded to begin with. So Rose had taken a seat in the corner of the deli and was prepared to wait. But, while she was calmly minding her own business, some men, obviously very much out of it, had come in and accosted the whole place. Rose had hidden behind a magazine, not wanting them to see her, but they had and managed to give her grief about behind there alone, not to mention making some inappropriate remarks. And by the time they left and she had gotten her sandwich, it was time to leave for work again. 

And now it was raining. 

Not that Rose really minded the rain; it was just that it made it harder to get around and other people were generally in a bad mood. Her father used to tell her that when it rained it was all the souls in heaven crying for the people on earth. Rose like to think that was true, it made her feel less alone all the time, even though she knew in her heart that it wasn't..

She made up her mind on the way back that she would take the rest of the afternoon off. She really had to get away for a while. And she might as well give Phoebe the rest of the day off too; there was no point in having only one of them there, especially with how busy it was. The customers would just have to wait until tomorrow to buy their books.    

The bell over the door chimed as Rose entered and she rolled her eyes as Phoebe gave her a confused look.

"Everything okay?" her friend asked.

Rose shook her head and made her way back to the office. Phoebe jumped up from her seat behind the counter and followed her. "No, everything is not okay," Rose announced as she packed up her stuff into a shoulder bag. "I'm going home for the rest of the afternoon."

"Well, what shall I do then?" Phoebe asked, following Rose again as she left her office, closing the door behind them. 

"I don't care, take the rest of the day off," Rose suggested as she went back to the counter and started going through her things there, grabbing a few letters and messages. She paused only for a second, and that was to ask if there were any messages for her. 

Phoebe shook her head. "No, although," she stopped and thought for a moment, "a girl stopped by a little while ago looking for you."

"A girl?" Rose repeated. 

"Yes, well, she was about seventeen or eighteen maybe. With longish kind of strawberry blonde hair…" Phoebe reached down and picked something up, "…she left this umbrella too. She kind of ran out of here pretty fast."

Rose couldn't think of anyone she knew who looked like that or was around that age. "Well, did she leave a name or something?"

Phoebe thought for a moment again. "I don't remember exactly, sorry Rose. I think it was like Jessica, or Jasmine…yeah, I think it was Jasmine…. something along those lines at least."

"Okay…" Rose trailed off, still confused. What did Phoebe want her to do? She had no idea who she was talking about, and if the girl didn't leave any sort of message, then she couldn't really get in touch with her now could she? "You know what Phoebe, I'm just going to go home. If she stops by again, give her my telephone number or something."

"Okay, will do."

"And lock up when you leave please," Rose reminded her as she made her way to the front door. "I'll see you tomorrow!" she called as she left. Once she was outside and the door was closed, she sighed heavily. That girl was a bit of a mystery, but she couldn't let herself think about it too much. All she wanted to do now was go home, slip into some pajamas, grab a book, and lie in bed. She wanted all thoughts of work and mysterious people to leave her alone for just a little bit. 

It was raining harder now, but Rose didn't care. A good walk in the rain never harmed anyone. As long as her papers were safe inside her bag, a little water was fine. Too much, of course, was horrible; it reminded her of a lot of things, most of which were too painful to think about for too long. But this little spring shower was kind of nice, she felt close to Jack in some strange way. 

It didn't take her very long to get home; her house wasn't far from the shop. By the time she got there, her hair was more or less soaked and her clothes were damp. She needed to get out of them quickly before she caught cold; that would just make everything worse. Briefly, she paused to get the mail and the trotted up the driveway, fumbling in her bag for her keys. She was so distracted that she didn't even notice anyone on her front steps. But when that someone stirred, Rose screamed in fright and threw up her arms, her mail going everywhere.

"Don't scream! I'm not going to hurt you…" the person said, jumping up.

Rose placed her hand over her heart, and tried to clam her pulse. "Who….are…you?" she asked in-between gasps for air. 

The person was of course Jessamyn, who by now was too shocked to say anything else. She realized that this was her mother. She actually stood face to face with her mother, who right now was looking just a little angry. This was so weird. Jessamyn felt a wave of nausea hit her and she would have fainted if Rose hadn't noticed and put her arm out to steady her. 

"Are you all right?" Rose asked, her voice becoming more compassionate. She felt a strange overwhelming sense of something come over her as she made contact with this girls arm. It was very odd…unsettling almost. Rose tried to get a look at this girl, but her face was hidden in the shadows of her jacket, which was damp. How long had this girl been sitting out here…and why?

Jessamyn nodded, still unable to say anything. 

"C'mon…let's get you inside…" Rose mumbled, fumbling around in her bag once again, trying to find her keys. She succeeded and managed to get the door open with only one free hand. She walked inside, and flipped on the lights, forgetting about the mail completely. She wanted to know who this person was and why she was at her house. Jessamyn didn't speak a word still, merely followed her numbly mother inside, contemplating what to do now. How on earth was she going to tell Rose who she was?   

IThanks to everyone who has left reviews over the past few weeks! It really means a lot…and as you can tell, it makes me want to update! Reviews=Mollie is Happy=Mollie writes=Updates! LOL…anyway, I hope you enjoyed the chapter! Let me know what you think!/I


	9. Chapter Eight: It's All Coming Back

Back with You

Chapter 8

_Yeah, I pretty much suck at writing serious, important scenes, so this really bites. Well, I think it does at least.  LOL. Bear with me...and be nice with the reviews (speaking of which, thanks all of you who left comments on last chapter...wow!). It will get better soon...I promise! Jessamyn and Rose still have a lot to discuss.... and what about the mysterious Mr. Jack? Ohh la la! Sorry it's short!_

Rose led this mysterious stranger into her house, closing the door firmly behind them. The girl hadn't said a word in a few minutes now, and Rose was a little...not mad, annoyed was more of the right word. Yes, she was annoyed. Who the hell was this?

Rose shrugged out of her coat before she did anything and hung it on the black wire coat-rack by the door. Then she set her things down on the wooden floor and turned her attention back to the girl. She couldn't see her face; the girl was looking down at the floor and it was hidden in the shadows of her coat hood. She just stood there, her clothes dripping with water, creating a little pool underneath her feet.

"Are you going to tell me who you are and why you were on my porch? Or are you just going to stand there making a lake in the middle of the entry way?" Rose asked expectantly, her hands on her hips. She was cold and wet and desperately wanted to get out of her clothes. The girl shifted her weight from foot to foot, looking like she was struggling with something. Rose raised her eyebrows at her. 

"Well..." she prodded.

Finally, the girl raised her head, but kept her eyes half closed. "Look..." she began shakily. "I.... I really need to talk to you," she pleaded softly. "But please don't get mad or...or...rush me, okay?"

Jessamyn watched for a reaction from Rose, who by now looked really confused. She couldn't blame her. If her long lost daughter showed up on her doorstep after being gone for 18 years and Jessamyn had no idea whom it was, she would be confused to.  This was so hard. She desperately wanted to just tell Rose. But the nervousness she was feeling was getting the best of her. 

"All right," Rose agreed. "Just, tell me who you are." She attempted a small smile.

Jessamyn took a deep breath and slowly reached up to pull her hood off. As she did so, she let her hair shake out and finally opened her eyes all the way. She knew this would do it...or at least be a very big clue. 

Rose's stood in shock, not believing what she was seeing. To her sheer amazement, this girl had Jack's eyes and she felt like she was looking at a ghost from the past. In fact.... she reminded Rose of someone. She softly gasped in shock, as she looked closer at the girl. The same eyes...no one else in the world had eyes like those... except Jack.

And Jessamyn.

"Oh my god," Rose whispered softly. It was a ghost from her past. And not just any ghost…it was her daughter. 

Jessamyn knew by the tone of her voice that Rose knew. Her eyes had widened in either shock or amazement, maybe both, and her hand had slowly risen to cover her mouth.

"Yeah...it's me...Jessamyn...." she said softly. Brilliant Jessamyn! She immediately regretted it as soon as she said that. She could have said anything else, but nooo. It just had to be the stupidest thing in the world to come up with. Hell, saying nothing at all was better then that. 

Rose didn't seem to notice how pathetic of the statement was. The sound that then came from Rose's mouth was a strange mixture of almost fear and amazement at the same time. By now her eyes had filled with tears and she was about ready to lose it. She couldn't believe she was staring at her daughter. Her daughter for Christ sake! She was so beautiful and so...old.  The last time she had seen her she had just been this little tiny baby. This couldn't be her daughter. Her daughter, who had been so tiny, this little sick-looking baby was not a woman.  She kept looking at her over and over again, making sure she was real...that it was really Jessamyn. But there was no mistaking those eyes...so blue, like Jacks. 

"Oh...my baby girl," she whispered softly and then did lose it. The tears began to fall uncontrollably and quickly ran down her cheeks. She wanted to throw up she was so shocked and happy. She had imagined this over and over in her mind since she gave her up. And now it was actually happening.

Once Rose started crying, Jessamyn couldn't help herself and felt tears start to run down her face as well. She had finally done it. This was her birth mother! She was more beautiful then in the pictures. Her voice too was strangely familiar, like Jessamyn remembered it, even though she knew that wasn't possible. It was soft…and alluring, and so cultured. 

Rose started shaking and Jessamyn immediately felt sorry for her. She had least had expected it; her mother had no idea. This was even huger for Rose then it was for her. Slowly, she moved a few steps closer to Rose and then gently put her arms around her. Rose hugged her back tightly, like she couldn't believe it. 

"Did they treat you okay? Were you happy?" Rose asked amidst sobs as she held on to Jessamyn. Her daughter just nodded, to over come with emotion to speak. 

They stayed like this for some time, unable to talk or even move. Rose still felt like she was in a dream. She felt like if she let go, Jessamyn would leave and she would wake up to fine God had played a cruel trick on her unconscious mind. And Jessamyn felt home for the first time in hr life. Her heart was so full she couldn't' even describe it. 

"I missed you so much," Rose just kept whispering over and over. She attempted to gather herself together and gently pushed er daughter away. "Let me look at you," she said softly, feeling the tears want to pour. There was no doubt about it. This was she, it was Jessamyn. Oh, every day since they had been separated Rose had wanted her back. She had regretted her design so many times. This was Jack's child. And Rose had just cased her aside, letting strangers take her in.  She softly brushed some hair away from Jessamyn's face and then smiled.

Jessamyn smiled back, ecstatic. She wanted to tell Rose everything, her entire life story. And she wanted to know what she had been up too. Not to mention ask a few questions about her dad and what had happened there. Not to mention that damn necklace that Jessamyn still had...what was with that thing?

"I can't believe all this," she confessed outloud. 

Rose nodded, finally getting full control over her tears. She couldn't believe it either.

"I mean, they didn't even tell me until my birthday. I had no idea. And now..." Jessamyn trailed off. She didn't really know how to explain what she was feeling, so she just shut up. 

Smiling again, Rose nodded, understanding what Jessamyn felt. She was overjoyed and simply didn't know what to say.  Softly, she put her arm around Jessamyn's shoulders. "C'mon, let's get you changed and then we can talk. There is so much I want to know."

Jessamyn let her mother lead her though the living room and down this sort of hallway. It was only now that she began to look around. There wasn't much, it was kind of sad actually. It was obvious Rose lived alone.... and that the apartment didn't get visited much by anyone but Rose. Books covered countless shelves and a few flower vases and picture frames were scattered here and there, but that was about it.

They stopped in front of one of the three doors in the hall and Rose pushed the door open. It was obvious this room never got used either. Rose looked embarrassed as she left Jessamyn and crossed the room, flipping on a light switch as she went and then opening the curtains across the way. There was a beautiful view of the ocean, but right now it was clouded by the storm. There was a desk with papers and junk cluttered on it, another bookcase complete with many books, a closet, and a bed.

 "Um, you can get changed in here if you like...there are some extra things of mine in the closest. They might fit you, they're to small for me." Rose paused for a moment, looking around. "The bathroom is across the hall if you need it," she continued, "and my bedroom is right next door. I'm going to change and then go get us something to eat. Do you drink coffee?" 

Jessamyn nodded, "Yes, I do."

"Alright, I'll put some on." She gave her another smile and then left, leaving Jessamyn alone. Once she was outside in the hallway again and the door was closed, Rose breathed a heavy sigh. Her heart was beating so fast, her palms were sweaty and she felt like her stomach was going to explode. Her baby, her daughter, was here. Finally. She hoped Jessamyn would stay for a while. In fact, she had always had a spare room ready just in case of something like this. God knows she wouldn't need it for anything else. 

As she made her way back into her room, she noticed something. She was happy. And she didn't remember the last time she had been happy. It had to have been years. Yeah, little things every once in a while had always brought her sprit up a little bit. But this was different. She was really and truly happy. A part of her heart that had been missing for so long was now back. There was always going to be a void from Jack. But at least she had part of him back with her again. Oh, and how she reminded her of Jack. She could see a bit of herself in her daughter as far as looks went and a few other little things, but it was mostly Jack. Jessamyn stood the same way and got that same nervous look in her eyes, not to mention other things that were to numerous to name. She wished they had gotten to know each other. Smiling, Rose entered her room and closed the door behind her. Her daughter was back and she knew that nothing was ever going to be lonely again. If only Jack were here…


	10. Chapter Nine: Stuck In A Moment You Can'...

Chapter 9

_Thanks again for all the reviews you guys. And to everyone who had e-mailed me, its really nice. Thanks you. _

_Now, get some Kleenex and some diet Pepsi.... its a bit of an eye-opener for Jessamyn and a bit teary for the rest of us.... Enjoy!_

Jessamyn stood suddenly alone in the middle of the little room. She didn't know what to do next. Well, she knew she had to get out of her wet clothes.... but after that she was clueless. At least the worst part was over; she had met Rose.

Slowly she moved over the desk and couldn't resist a little look around. It was cluttered with what looked like business papers, a couple of books, pencils, a flower vase with fresh roses (from where Jessamyn couldn't imagine) and then a framed photograph. She picked the picture up and looked at it. To her surprise, it was her in Rose's arms as a tiny baby. It was weird knowing that someone who hadn't really met in your entire life had pictures of you in their house. Jessamyn quickly put the picture back where it had been and turned from the desk. 

The closest door now loomed in front of her and Jessamyn wondered what she would find in there. She walked over and threw open the door, behind which was a little room the size of a small bathroom, stacked with boxes and clothes hanging to one side. Since she was begging to get really cold she decided she had better change her clothes before she did anything else. Quickly she went through the hangers, finally finding a pair of casual pants and a simple blouse that looked like they would fit her. Everything else either wouldn't fit or were dodgy dresses and skirts.... the shirt and pants were going to have to work. 

Closing the closet door behind he again, Jessamyn changed quickly and then was left standing in the middle of the room again holding a pile of wet things. She didn't know what to do with them so she opened up the bedroom door and, after looking back and forth, crossed the hallway into the bathroom. She set her wet shoes on the floor of the bathtub, hung he sox's over the edge, and then, after wringing them out in the sink, hung the rest of her clothes over the towel rack. 

A quick look in the mirror told her that she looked horrible and she hurriedly rung her now-frizzy-from-the-water hair and managed to put in into some order. All of her makeup and other toiletries were at her apartment, so she had to make do by pinching her cheeks and biting her lips for a little color. 

After all this was finished, Jessamyn realized she now had nothing else to do but go out into the living room. The nervousness set in again and she took a couple of deep breaths to calm herself down. 

Slowly, she opened the door back up and walked on into the hallway. Later she would only remember the sound of her bare feet on the wood floor as she walked toward the living room. She was sure they were making the loudest sound in the world, even though she knew they weren't.

The smell of the coffee hit her nose before she entered the kitchen and that's where she found Rose standing in a clean skirt and button down blouse, her hair in an upsweep. Her mother smiled as she came in and motioned for her to sit down.

"This is almost ready," she said cheerfully to Jessamyn as she took her seat.

"Oh, okay," was all Jessamyn managed to get out. She cleared her throat a few times and fiddled with a saltshaker on the table. "Um, I left my clothes in the bathroom...is that alright?"

Rose was pouring the coffee now and after a second brought it over. "It's not problem," she assured her as she set a blue mug in front of Jessamyn. "You look a little better," she commented, sitting down with her own drink. 

Jessamyn blushed. "I didn't realize I looked like death warmed over when you showed up," she said, laughing a little bit afterward. 

Rose didn't say much, just smiled a little bit. She didn't want to tell Jessamyn about how she hated that comment, that the phrase "death warmed over" wasn't even funny considering she'd seen people who would rather look like death warmed over then dead. How she herself felt like "death warmed over" when she had arrived on the Carpathia. Instead, she changed the subject. 

"So, Jessamyn," the name felt natural to her, even after so many years, "tell me about your life. I want to know everything."

Jessamyn laughed again, beginning to feel more comfortable. Rose was being so nice and welcoming. "Well, I grew up in Maine with a couple of brothers and sisters." This was going to be hard...what did Rose want from her? "I thought I had a pretty normal life, but I guess not."

"When did they tell you?" Rose asked before taking a sip of coffee.

"My eighteenth birthday." Jessamyn nodded slowly for a moment. "Yep, it seemed like an odd time. I still don't know why they waited that long."

From Rose came an unexpected sound and Jessamyn looked over to see her frowning. "It's my fault," she explained. "I told them not to tell you until you were eighteen."

Jessamyn blinked a few times. "What? Why?" she finally asked. If she had known all a long maybe she could have made contact with Rose a long time ago and then it would have saved a lot of his confusion and pain. 

"I knew that," Rose sighed,  "that if I knew you knew about me, about us, then I couldn't keep myself from coming to get you." She took a deep breath and closed her eyes, her hands wrapping around the coffee mug. "I almost jumped on a train so many times Jessamyn. I would be at the train station, my bags packed, and a ticket to Maine in my hands. I just wanted to see you. But, everytime I tried I would think to myself about how much my being there would screw your whole life up. I couldn't go. I knew I wouldn't be able to leave without taking you with me. And that would not have been the right thing for you." Her eyes opened up again and there were tears in them.

Jessamyn was touched. And instantly sorry for being a little bit mad at Rose for not coming to tell her or get her when she had the money and could have provided a life for both of them. She was right; it would have been traumatic for a little kid. She admired her mother for having so much strength. God, if she had been in that situation she probably would have run mad. 

"I figured when you were eighteen you were old enough to make your own decisions, that if you wanted to you could come and find me. You obviously did." Rose smiled gently at her daughter. "I missed you everyday. What killed me the most was that I didn't even get to see you grow up. I wanted to so badly."

Slowly, Jessamyn reached over and placed on her hands over Rose's.  Like so many other things that were happening right now, it felt natural. Her mother's hand was freezing, but soft and delicate. She squeezed it softly. "You did the right thing, you know," she told her. "You gave me a new life. I would have slowed you down so much. You wouldn't have been here now...you did the right thing."

Rose was crying softly now. "I regretted it so much," she mumbled out in-between sobs. "You were my baby Jess...and I let strangers take you away. You were crying, and I was crying and they just took you. Just took you away...." she trailed off, to overcome to say much more. She couldn't believe she was telling Jessamyn these things. They were so personal. But it felt good to get it all off her chest, to finally explain to her daughter why they had needed to be separated. 

"They gave me a life though, they provided for me. I had brothers and sisters, a big extended family. I was happy," Jessamyn said softly, trying to make Rose see that her choice had been a noble one. "I'm glad all of this happened though. Because they're has always been this part of me that felt like I didn't belong there. It's like I missed you without even knowing about you." She reached over and brushed a few tears away from her mother's cheeks. Seeing her like this made her want to cry. "Cheer up, you're making me depressed. I thought this was suppose to be a happy occasion."

Rose laughed a little bit at that, and it brought a small smile to her face. "You're right, I'm sorry," she said, trying to control her tears and stop her nose from making nose every time she breathed in. "Okay, doing better," she said outloud to herself, making Jessamyn smile this time. "Tell me some more," she begged, holding on to her hand a little tighter.

Jessamyn took a sip of the coffee and then swallowed before continuing. "Well, I graduated high school a year early, umm, I was planning on college in Boston...but that's over now. I'm thinking about moving down here and going to school in California. 

Rose was relieved to her that. She was a bit worried Jessamyn was planning on leaving.  But she didn't' say anything to that effect. "Well, when did you walk, what was your first word.... all those sorts of things. I missed it all."

"Ahh..." Jessamyn laughed, "let's see. I walked when I was about 10 months old, I think, is what they said. And my first word was 'Howie' which was the name of our cat at the time." She paused for a moment. She didn't want to spend the whole time talking about herself. Her curiously to learn of her mother was more exciting. "Tell me about you, though, please, I want to know," she begged gently. 

And so they talked for the next few hours, of everything and anything, trading stories back and forth. Neither was ashamed to talk of anything. Jessamyn even told of some of the less then amiable things she had done in Maine and was shocked to find Rose laughing. Apparently her mother had not been quite the little angel either when she was at boarding school. That was one of the more interesting things to Jessamyn, learning of her mother's childhood. It was hard to believe that Rose had actually gone to school in Paris, that she had lived out that fairytale childhood that Jessamyn had always wanted. The nasty stories of her grandmother, Ruth, were also amusing. She had asked Rose if she could meet her, but Rose had shied away, saying that one, her grandmother was dead and two, before she had died she hadn't spoken to her since 1912. And that's where Jessamyn got confused. Her mother stories seemed to stop in the spring of 1912 and then pick up when she moved out to California. There was about a year and a half missing there where Jessamyn had no idea what had happened. And she desperately wanted to know of her father too. But Rose hadn't said a word. Jessamyn decided it could probably wait and that if her mother hadn't brought it up it was for a valid reason. 

After a late dinner, around nine, they had moved into the living room and continued their conversations. Jessamyn began to reveal a lot of personal things, and the strange thing was that Rose understood. She felt like she was talking to one of her good friends back home, which was nice because she had needed some good conversation. Except for Charlie, her close interaction with people had been somewhat limited the past few months. She felt like she could tell Rose anything. And the strange thing was that she trusted her completely. She even told her about Charlie and about how she liked him and wished he would ask her to the movies or something. A shadow of pain had crossed Rose's face when she did so, but it soon passed and Rose began to giggle like a schoolgirl. 

"I bet if you asked him he'd say yes," Rose said, offering some advice. 

Jessamyn shrugged. "It's not even that. Yeah, I could ask him out. But he's a nice little southern boy, at least I think he is," a brief thought crossed her mind and she grinned devilishly for a moment before continuing, "in anycase, it wouldn't be proper for me to ask. That's his job."

Rose laughed and shook her head. "Sweetheart, take it from me, sometimes you have to throw propriety out the window." She sighed heavily, thinking how true that was. She so badly wanted to tell Jessamyn about Jack, but it wasn't the right time. Things were going so well. Jessamyn had known enough emotional stress for one day. Finding her mother and then learning of the Titanic, Cal, and Jack would just be too much for her. They both needed a good nights sleep and then maybe a few days more. She was going to tell her though; she had a right to know. And in fact, Rose was kind of surprised Jessamyn didn't know already. If she had looked up DeWitt Bukator in any way, she was sure her name would come up and the words "Killed in Titanic Disaster" would follow. Rose couldn't be sure that she didn't, but she was pretty sure if she had she would have brought it up by now. She looked over at Jessamyn, who had picked up a photo album lying on he table and had begun to look through it. 

Rose just watched her for a little bit until Jessamyn finally noticed her mother staring at her and she blushed. "Is that really you?" she asked, pushed the album over and pointing to a picture of Rose, who was standing in front of a sign that said "Santa Monica Pier," grinning a what looked like a sad smile, and holding a glass of what Jessamyn assumed was beer. 

Chuckling, Rose nodded. "Yes, that's me. Wow, I must have been twenty or so then." She shook her head in disbelief, it seemed like so long ago. 

Jessamyn took the album back and brought it closer to her face so that she might study it better. "We're you feeling okay? You look like you're happy and might throw up at the same time."

Rose didn't say anything. That's exactly how she'd felt that day, kind of like today. It had been a bittersweet time, finally making it to the pier. It had taken her so long. It was painful, even now, to go down there. But she made herself do it a few times each year. It was part of what she owed Jack. 

Jessamyn didn't seem to notice that her mother didn't say anything back and just kept flipping through the pages. Rose didn't know what was really so interesting, it was just a bunch of silly pictures friends had taken of her over the years mixed in with some remembrances like dried sea shells and movie ticket stubs, things like that.  Of course, she had to remind herself, she would love to some photo albums of Jessamyn's. 

Just then she remembered something. She jumped up from the couch and over to one of the bookshelves. After searching for a moment, she pulled out another album. Jessamyn curiously watched as her mother carried it over and then set it in front of her. She gingerly picked it up as Rose sat down and ran her fingers of the name on the blue cover. 'Jessamyn' was writing in Rose's soft handwriting. 

"What is this?" she asked. 

"Just open it," Rose urged as she sat down next to her daughter.

Jessamyn did as she was told and was shocked to find out what it was filled with. On the very front page was a copy of her birth certificate, visible proof of her existence as Rose's daughter. Her eyes filled with unexpected tears as she turned the page and found pictures of her as a baby and then a card with "Jessamyn Dawson-Girl-Rose Dawson-January 15th" written on it. Jessamyn recognized it as one of the identification cards from the hospital that was stuck to the little bassinettes. On the next page was a little pink ribbon with Jessamyn Dawson written on it.

"That went around your wrist," Rose explained when her daughter looked at her with a confused look.

Jessamyn nodded and went back to the book, not knowing what else to say. The ribbon was followed by more photos, what Rose said was the ticket stub from the play she had gone to and felt Jessamyn kick at, some dried flowers and then the most depressing of all, an address, which Jessamyn recognized as her own from Maine. 

She ran her fingers over the names of her adoptive parents, tracing the words. An overwhelming sense of longing and betrayal came over her. She felt guilty for not knowing all these years and felt a strange urge not to know. It was almost like she wanted to go back to Maine and make it all go away, have things go back to normal. It was finally setting in, and it hurt.

Rose noticed Jessamyn's sudden change in demeanor and knew that the reality of it was begging to hit. She reached over and pulled her into a tight hug, not saying anything. Jessamyn cried openly. It was all so different now, and would be for the rest of her life. She could never go back to Maine without feeling a longing for Rose, and she couldn't just let her adoptive parents drift away. 

After some time, Rose pulled away and looked at her daughter. "You're going to be all right," she assured her, knowing that she better well be or else she was never going to get through the story of Jack. 

Jessamyn wiped some tears away and nodded, sniffling a little bit. She needed to sleep so badly, just forget about everything for a while. Sighing, she stood up, Rose following her. 

"I'm going to go to bed," she said softly, her voice hoarse. 

"Okay," Rose whispered, nodding. She watched as Jessamyn tried to smile a little bit and then walked off. Just before she disappeared into the spare room, Rose couldn't resist something. 

"I love you," she called softly. 

Jessamyn began to cry again and shut the door without saying anything. Rose wiped some of her own tears away and managed to make her way around the house, turning out the lights and the retreating back to her own room. Things would be better in the morning...she hoped.

Jessamyn fell asleep as soon as her head hit the pillow and she stayed in this slumber until an odd dream woke her up suddenly. She felt better then she had when she first went to bed, more rested and a little less emotional. But the dream was disturbing. She had been lying there and then suddenly it had felt like she was suffocating, like someone was pushing her underwater and keeping her down there. Just before she would pass out, her head would reemerge and she would hear this evil crackling laugh before her body would once again be submerged. 

The first thing she noticed when she woke up, after the fact that it was no longer storming outside, was that it was freezing. Rose's home had been cold ever since she had gotten here, but now it was really bad. She had kicked all the covers off the bed in her dream struggle and even after pulling them back up and around her, her body still felt like ice. Her eyes drifted to the closet. Maybe there was some extra blanket in there, she thought as she threw the covers back off and climbed out of bed. Quietly, she walked over there and opened the door. It was dark, so she reached up and pulled the chain for the light. It didn't help much, the bulb was quite weak, but even so she managed to spot some extra blankets up on a shelf. She looked around, finding a step stool to stand on, and the raised herself up. Pulling down the blankets, she threw them on the floor and prepared to get down.  But as she turned, her eyes spotted a box in the corner, pushed back against the wall. The words "Jack's Things" were printed on it in her mother's distinct handwriting. 

Jessamyn's eyes lit up and she was suddenly awake as all thoughts of being cold and sleeping left her. Her Dad! The journalist in her kicked in as she reached out and pulled the box closer to the point where she could lift it down. It was quite heavily, but even so she jumped off the stool and then excited sat down on the closet floor, placing the box in front of her. Excitedly, she undid the little flaps that acted as a lid and peered inside.

What she saw was amazing. A sketchbook lay on top, which immediately interested Jessamyn. She pulled it out and opened it up. Numerous drawings lay there and as she looked through them, she saw that they were dated from 1202 to 1907. Many of the drawing were amateur looking, as if done by a child. Although, they were still quite good and reminded Jessamyn of other drawings she had seen, but she couldn't remember where. In addition she found some letters addressed to people in Idaho and Montana, all of them from Jack, all of them in the same childish handwriting. Everything was dated pre-1907, which was strange. There were also some other things like pencils, a few books, and a shoe, which was really odd. But to her disappointment, no pictures or anything related o her mother. At the bottom of the box were a couple of shirts, a pair of pants, and, perhaps the most exciting, a notebook with the words "School Stuff" on the front. She opened it up to find more drawings and a few what looked like the starting of lecture notes. But like everything else, everything stopped after 1907. 

Jessamyn sat there for a long time pondering her find. Her dad was really a mystery now, one that she desperately wanted to solve. She had almost asked about him today, but had decided not to; worried it might upset her mother. But this was really amazing. The first tangible evidence of him, her father, Jack Dawson.  She had memorized his name and repeated it over and over before. 

The sun was coming up over the ocean when fatigue overtook her and she finally went back to bed. She would have plenty of questions in the morning. But right now, she just wanted to sleep.


	11. Chapter Ten: Do What You Have To Do

_Sorry about the delay in updates everyone. I have been extremely busy with school and countless other pointless things. But here you go…chapter ten is finally ready after numerous changes. :-)_

_Thanks to everyone who has left reviews…its very touching and it's a major ego boost…which is always good. I really do appricate it. You guys are the best!_

_And now, on with the show!_

Back With You

Chapter Ten

Jessamyn's eyelids felt heavy as she rolled over and tried to open them. When she finally succeeded, she saw the sunlight creeping into her room and noticed that it was obviously not early. Groaning softly, she glanced over at the clock on the nightstand. It was almost noon. She hadn't slept this late in years. Even the bright sunlight, which usually woke her up, had not bothered her. 

Under the sheets, she stretched her legs out and yawned, debating whether to get up or go back to sleep or get up. One part of her was still very tired, but the other desperately wanted to talk to Rose again. Not to mention ask her about the box she had found last night.  And of course, she needed to apologize. Jessamyn knew she had acted like a bitch before going to bed. Rose had just been trying to explain some things and Jessamyn had shut her out. It had finally hit her last night, how very really all of this was.   

When Rose had said "I love you" though, Jessamyn had felt odd. She loved her too, in a sort of unknowing way, but wasn't sure she could tell Rose that. She couldn't even call her 'mother' to her face yet, it was just too weird. All her life, Elizabeth Calvert had been the one she called mom. It was going to be hard getting used to calling someone else that.

After lying there for about ten minutes contemplating the situation, Jessamyn finally concluded the best thing for her to do was to get up and face Rose. And so she sluggishly pulled herself from under the warm covers and made her way across the room. More light hit her sensitive eyes when she opened the door to the hallway, causing what Jessamyn feared was permanent blindness, and she had to use her arm to shield some of it. Groggily, she continued down the hall, through the livingroom, and into the kitchen. 

Rose was sitting at the table reading the paper with a cup of coffee in her hand. She started grinning when she saw her daughter, who was obviously still half asleep, approach. 

"Morning," she said as Jessamyn sat down in a nearby chair.

Jessamyn made a sound that wasn't comprehendible and laid her head on the table. Her eyes closed and she managed to give a little wave.

"Are you hungry?" Rose asked, getting up from her seat. She was couldn't stop smiling. If she went out in public like this, people would get worried. "I could make you something if you want. Waffles, eggs, ummm.... pancakes?"

Jessamyn lifted her head and opened her eyes. "I'll just have some toast thanks." Her eyes started to close again. "And some coffee," she added as she forced them back open again. What she really needed was a shower or a bath; that would wake her up. 

Rose started laughing. "That's probably a good choice.... the toast I mean. You don't want to taste my pancakes. They're either burnt or half done."

Jessamyn managed a smile, but didn't say anything. She desperately wanted to ask her mother about her dad and the box. But she needed to be a little bit more conscience before that happened. Right now she probably couldn't spell her own name if someone asked her. 

While Jessamyn wrestled with the questions to ask, Rose was having similar thoughts about Jack.  As she cut a slice of bread and then popped it into the toaster, her mind started to drift back. She knew she was going to have to explain it all to Jessamyn. Her daughter deserved to know where she came from. But it was going to be hard. It still hurt to think about it sometimes. Rose would be walking down the street and overhear some comment that would remind her of something Jack said, and it would all come back. Often she would break down crying and have to take time from work or whatever she was doing to compose herself again. And then there were the panic attacks. Those always seemed to get worse as the anniversary neared. Once she had gotten stuck in an elevator downtown and had completely lost it. After behind trapped behind that gate as the ship was going down, she now felt herself more claustrophobic then she cared to be. Her heart had begun to beat so fast she was sure it was going to pop out of her chest. Rose had become sweaty and she couldn't see straight. But then, all at once it was fixed and she was moving again. And then the panic attack passed. The feeling never left her though. Sometimes there would be so many reminds coming to her at once that it was almost seem to much to bear. It always passed though- even if it often took some time. Telling Jessamyn was going to cause Rose to be in a sour, depressed mood for the rest of the day. But it needed to be done.

Mechanically, she set the now-finished toast on a plate and set it, along with the butter, in front of Jessamyn. The coffee was next. That too was done mindlessly and she didn't even notice her daughter's question when she set the coffee down.

"What are you doing today?"

Jessamyn, who was more awake now, could tell Rose hadn't heard her because she had this odd look in her eyes was sort of staring off at something. Jessamyn turned and looked in the direction of the gaze, but saw only a wall. She turned back around and gave a wave in front of her mother's eyes. Rose shook her head and then blinked a few times. 

"Oh, I'm sorry darling. What's wrong?"

Jessamyn shook her head. "Nothing is wrong. Just wondering what you were doing today." she said before taking a sip of coffee, which happened to be a pretty week.  She made a mental note to make the coffee from now on. Never the less though, the caffeine was much needed.

Rose sat down at the table across from Jessamyn and shrugged her shoulders. "Nothing. I called into work and explained what happened to Phoebe; she's going to cover me for the rest of the week. I thought later today we could go to your apartment and get your things," she explained as she tried to get her mind back on the present.  "Assuming you want to stay of course," she added.

"Of course I do," Jessamyn replied. She wanted to stay for a very long time. Getting to know Rose like daughters should know their mothers was important to her. She wanted them to have a relationship. If it were otherwise, Jessamyn would have left last night. She didn't tell Rose this though. Instead, she reached across the table and picked up the paper. After finding the front page, she opened it up and began reading.

It was quiet for a while as Jessamyn lost herself in the current news. Once in a while she would take another sip or two of coffee, but other then that her attention was only on the paper.

Rose watched her daughter read page after page. If she had noticed anything about Jessamyn, it was how much she loved words. She was obviously well learned. The way she read things was obsessive. Rose had watched Jessamyn pick up more soup cans and magazines in the short time she had been here then anyone else in her life. It was like Jessamyn needed to read or else she would be terribly bored. 

Jessamyn meanwhile had peaked over and around the paper and noticed Rose looking at her. It was odd, she deiced, before continuing reading. It took her only a little bit while to finish and then she folded the paper over itself and set it down. She took a breath for strength and couldn't believe she was going to do what she was about to do. 

"Um, Mom?" That was the first obstacle. Jessamyn felt odd, but reveled, after she said it. In fact, it felt sort of natural after a few moments, once she got used to the sound of it. It was, after all, her mother. Why not call her that?

Rose's reaction was priceless. She had noticed that Jessamyn had never called her anything but 'Ummm' and 'You." And when she heard her daughter say Mom it filled her heart with such happiness. Her eye's lit up and she broke into a smile. She'd been waiting for years for that simple title.

"Yes?" she asked in reply, her voice cracking. 

"Tell me about my dad." It wasn't a question. Jessamyn's words were rushed and she immediately looked down, hoping that Rose would not shy away from her request. When she finally dared a look up, she was amazed at how pale her mother's face had become. That same distant gaze was in Rose's eyes again. Maybe this was a bad idea after all. "You don't have to you know, I don't-"

"No, you deserve to know," Rose said gravely. She looked to Jessamyn like she would rather do anything else in the world and Jessamyn now felt very guilty. What could possibly be so horrible that Rose got this disturbed by simply thinking about it?

Rose took a deep breath and looked Jessamyn straight in the eye. "Honey, a lot of what I am going to tell you mustn't ever be said to anyone else. And you'll understand why, once I am finished." She paused for a moment, and Jessamyn took the liberty of reaching across the table, taking her mother's hadn't in her own. It was icy cold. Rose gave her a simple smile and then continued. "Also, um, you know about sex...right? How it all works.... you know.... why and all that?"

Jessamyn couldn't help but laugh a little bit. "Of course," she assured Rose. 

"It's just, well, obviously its why you're here." Rose pushed some hair away from her face with her free hand. She didn't even want to know how much about sex Jessamyn knew...or how she knew. Well, maybe she did. But now was not the time. "And it just has a lot to do with things."

"Alright, I'll keep that in mind."

Rose smiled again and then took another deep breath. "Alright," she began, "here goes. Um, I was born to a rich family-"

"The DeWitt Bukators?"

"How did you know?" Rose asked softly, amazed at the knowledge her daughter apparently already had. What else did she know?

Jessamyn grinned across the table. "Your letter," she said simply.

Rose's mind flashed back to a cold night, many years ago. She could see herself sitting at that old, rundown desk writing the letter to Jessamyn. She had completely forgotten that she had left that to be given to her. That god dam necklace was in there too. Shit, Rose hated that thing. 

 "That's right," she mumbled. She could still hear Jessamyn crying behind her, the pain that filled her heart whenever she had heard it. Jessamyn had been so sick at that point. Every cry sounded like she was struggling for breath.

"Mom..." Jessamyn could tell her mother was slipping off to la-la land again. At this rate, she was pretty sure Rose would never make it through anything. 

Rose's mind returned to the resent and she shook her head in an attempt to make it all go away. She needed to tell this story before she lost the nerve. 

"Sorry," Rose apologized. Another deep breath. "Anyway, I was born to the DeWitt Bukators. Um, we lived in Philadelphia, but from the time I was about eight I was at boarding school. Mostly in France, but for a few years I was in England. So aside from summers, I wasn't home much. And even when I was in the United States, we went traveling a lot. When I was about fifteen though, my father died. He left us with nothing. I mean, absolutely nothing Jess. I had known for a while that they were having money problems. But I never said anything. I think there was maybe a few hundred left in the bank when he died. And then I found out later that most of that went to pay off debts that he had tallied up those last few months." Rose paused for brief moment. This was the point where it all started to get bad. Jessamyn looked like she was listing intently, her gaze stone like, focused upon Rose.

"Anyway, I was left with my mother.  And, well, to put it simply, we did not get along. We fought over everything. She pulled me out of school and back home. Her plan was to marry me off to the nearest, richest, person she could set eyes on. Have you ever heard of Caledon Hockey?

Jessamyn's eyes widened and she gasped. "You were engaged to him? Wasn't he the rich guy who committed suicide a couple of years ago?" Jessamyn remember hearing something about the Hockley's too...about an accident involving their steel or something. She couldn't remember the details though. 

Rose nodded. "Yeah, that's him. Mother practically forced me into this engagement with him. Well, that's not true. She definitely pressured me into it, but it wasn't entirely her doing. He proposed me one Christmas and I said yes, thinking I could be seen as the big hero and save the family." Once again, Rose paused. "But," she finally continued, "not long after our engagement I began to see what he was really like; this awful, disrespectful, patronizing man. I couldn't imagine my life with him and I started looking for a way out. It was February when he presented me with a trip to France as a Valentines Day gift. I was a real treat for me because he wasn't going and I finally had some time to myself. So anyway, we packed up and went to Paris. I think we were there for maybe a month when he suddenly showed up, beaming ridiculously about his recent business deal involving our trip home. His company had invested a great deal of their money and steel into this..." a deep breath "...new ship, and ah, we had first class tickets home."

What followed next was so reveling that when Jessamyn looked back on it years later she still got goosebumps. It was at that moment that she had realized what ship that Hockely Steel had been connected with so infamously.

"On April 10th we bored the Titanic..." Rose's voice had dropped a few octaves and she couldn't look at Jessamyn. 

Jessamyn gasped in the realization that her guess had been correct. But, it couldn't be right, right?  There was absolutely no way in hell that her mother had been on that ship when it went down. But a quick glace at Rose told her that it was indeed true. Jessamyn began to pale when she thought about it and she feared she might be sick. Her mother had been on the Titanic? And what made it worse was that Jessamyn had gone through a phase when she was about ten of wanting to know everything about the ship. She had poured over books for weeks soaking up information. It seemed so sick and twisted now that she felt incredibly guilty. 

"Y-you were actually on the Titanic?" Jessamyn asked in a disbelieving whisper. 

The only response from Rose was a quick, curt little nod. 

"Oh my god..." Jessamyn couldn't believe it was true. Her hand flew to her forehead as she begun to get little dizzy.  That in on its self was amazing, but what did her father have to do with any of it.  "My dad..."

"Was on it too," Rose answered, her gaze focused on the table. When she finally did look up, she wiped s few silent tears from her eyes. "One night I just decided it that was it, I was not going to put up with it anymore. I was sick of my mother bitching to me and reprehending me. And of Cal always having me on display, acting like I was his prize cattle or something. I just started running and the next thing I knew I was at the back of the ship and climbing over the rail. I was going to jump and end it all and then..."  Rose sniffled as her eyes filled up with tears again..."and then a man's voice cut through the night. He told me not to do it."

Jessamyn was pretty sure what she was going to say was not appropriate. So she just kept her comments to herself. Rose was in enough pain as it was.

"He introduced himself as Jack Dawson and convinced me to climb back over the railing. And I did. And well, to make a long story short, Cal invited him to dinner in thanks for saving me from plunging to my death trying to look at the "propellers."  Jack and I spent the next day talking, mostly about his art and about our childhoods, and then he came to dinner. After that, he took me dancing." Rose was now pretty much lost in that world again. She could still hear the sounds and shivers ran up and down her back when she thought of Jack's touch. She continued on, almost absentmindedly, "It was the most fun I'd ever had in my life. That was when I began to realize I couldn't spend the rest of my life without him. His presence was so magnetic. I wanted him by my side forever. But I knew mother would never stand for it. He was poor, we needed money. It would never work. And when she found out I had snuck away with him after dinner, she was none to happy either. I was ordered not to see him again. Jack pulled me aside later that day and explained how he basically wanted to see that I was okay. He would back down, but only after he was assured I was going to be all right. I gave him the programmed response that I was fine and then left. But later I realized how stupid I was and that I wanted to be with him, no matter what. 

"I found him on the bow of the ship, looking so forlorn. And when I said hello, his whole face lit up. When knew then that it was to strong a pull to resist. He took me flying there; we stood on the railing and just let the boat carry us forward. And that's where we first kissed. And I invited him back to my room and asked him to draw me." 

Rose stopped talking and, to Jessamyn's surprise, her mouth formed into a little devilish smile. "Do you still have that necklace that was in that bundle of things?" She hated the thing, and kind of hoped Jessamyn had sold it or something. But it was fun to think about what it had been a part of.

"Yes, it's in my jacket pocket," Jessamyn answered earnestly. 

From Rose's mouth came a little laugh. "Darling, you've been walking about with a multi-million, if not more, dollar necklace."

Jessamyn's reaction was priceless as she let out little gasp and her face paled once again. "You're joking right?" was the only thing she could think to say.

Rose shook her head. "No," she promised. "Cal had given it to me the night I met Jack. I was some sort of engagement deal, I guess. Anyway, I asked your father to draw me with it on, just it." She empathized the last two words, hopping Jessamyn would get it.

And she did. Now Jessamyn really didn't know what to think. First, her mother and father had been on the Titanic. Then she finds out her "costume jewelry necklace" she had been walking around with was actually worth more money then she had seen in her life. And now her mother was telling her she had stripped down and allowed her father to draw her naked. What the hell else could there be?

"Well, anyway, he did. And then as I was getting dressed, Cal's little sniper-valet man comes in and starts chasing us through the ship. Jack and I ended up in one of the cargo holds, where we found a car...and a backseat." Rose blushed profusely, not about to go into detail of what happened next. 

Jessamyn read between the lines. This is where she came into play.  She had been conceived in the back seat of a car!  Talk about a teenage tradition. And of all things holy and not good, she did not want to hear about it. Her parents couldn't have even done it somewhere romantic, or in the very least in a god dam bed. But no, it was a freaking car in the middle of a cargo hold. The thought made her want to shiver. 

"Shit," was all she could say and Rose burst out laughing. 

"Yeah, nine months later you showed up," her mother said, rather proudly, as if getting pregnant before she was married was a normal and moral thing. "But, obviously, we didn't know that at the time. And it was just a few moments later that the ship hit the iceberg."

Rose's tone was suddenly became very somber again. "To make another long and drawn out process short, we ended up going down together after a lot of struggles. In the water, he found a board and," her voice was cracking now, and it was getting hard to breathe, "there was only room for one. It was so cold Jess, you can't even imagine.  Jack made me promise to go on, to live out my life. And then, by the time that boat came, he was gone. He saved me, and I didn't even get to thank him.  He died before I could thank him."

The tears running down rose's checks suddenly wouldn't stop. Jessamyn herself was touched and felt a funny, numb feeling enveloped her. It was probably the most depressing thing she had ever heard, and she had the feeling that it was only some of the story. No wonder he mother was a little crazy. 

As her own tears began to fall, Jessamyn moved to the other side of the table and put her arm around Rose's shoulders. How awful to go through such a thing. She wasn't about to bug her with questions, even though she had a lot.  In fact, Jessamyn had forgotten about the whole box incident until just now. But oh well, plenty of time later for more questions. Right now she knew that her mother needed her to just be there.

^^^^^

Later that night, when she could not sleep, Jessamyn took the necklace out of her jacket pocket and held it for a long, long time. It was freezing cold in her hand, but it was still the most beautiful thing she had never seen. And it was real, that was the humbling part. Slowly, she lifted it to her nose and breathed in. The very distant smell of salt could still be detected. Jessamyn still couldn't believe it had been on the Titanic. That her parents were even connected with it at all was amazing. 

Slowly, she stood up and walked out of her bedroom and down the hall to Rose's. Her mother had fallen asleep around seven, exhausted from the day, and was still out when Jessamyn entered. Quietly, she crept over to Rose and studied her for a moment. Finally, she took her mother's hand and placed the necklace in the palm, clasping the fingers around the cold stones.  Rose's face immediately changed to that of pain, as if the necklace was burning into her skin. But she remained fast asleep.

Jessamyn left as quietly as she had entered. There was so much more to the story; she knew that. She could that Rose had loved Jack, even though she hadn't come right out and said so. The pain in her mother's face was enough to show Jessamyn how much it was killing her not to have him around. And she began to realize there were things she would probably never know. 

She admired her father now, even though she really did not know him at all. She had no idea what he even looked like. But just knowing what he was like as a man was enough for her. Jessamyn was smart enough to know that no one would lay down their life for someone else unless they were a noble, amiable person. And Jack Dawson certainly had been one of those people. There would be plenty of time to figure out details. The box was going to have to wait. 

_Let me know what you think…. review!_

_:-)_


	12. Chapter Eleven: Better Days

A bit more fluff in this chapter, just to tie up some loose ends and set the coarse for some new changes....But the next chapter is big, trust me. *evil grin* LOL. 

Thanks for the reviews. They never get old!

_One more thing…. God Bless America! Go out there and kick Saddam's ass!  0:)_

_Enjoy..._

Chapter 11

If Rose was mad about the Heart of the Ocean, she didn't say so. Jessamyn assumed everything was fine and let the subject drop for a couple of days until she nonchalantly asked why Rose had given it to her in the first place. Rose had explained that for one, she didn't want it lying around, two, if anything were to happen to her then Jessamyn would have some sort of other clue to look at in her search for who Rose was, and three, that it was a major piece of evidence that Rose was indeed the "dead" DeWitt Bukator girl and if anyone caught her with it then she would be found out. Of course, this led Jessamyn to ask the question of why Rose just didn't sell it. Rose had answered that she had wanted to and had thought about it, but if she sold it would certainly make headlines and then they were back to the issue of her being found out. She had also added that she just thought Jessamyn would sell it (which would in turn let Rose know Jessamyn knew) or leave it somewhere, and hadn't expected her to hold onto it. 

Jessamyn didn't really understand everything about the necklace, but she left it at that. Along with some other questions, she also asked about the box. Rose said that back in the late twenty's she had went back to Chippewa Falls, where Jack was from, and had asked about him around town. She didn't tell Jessamyn a long of what people had told her, but she did explain that the box was just a bunch of old things that had been left over when Jack skipped town.

It took a week or so for Jessamyn to move in and get everything settled. But when she did, it finally felt like she was getting into a normal life again. Rose would go off to work every morning and Jessamyn would hang out at the house, except for Mondays and Fridays when she still worked at the deli. During her free time though, Jessamyn had managed to find out some other secrets through old diary's and such that she probably shouldn't know. Like how her mother had reoccurring dreams about making love to Jack and how she had a large supply of sleeping pills stashed away in her nightstand drawer. 

A dozen times she had started a letter to her family back in Maine; and a dozen times she had ripped the paper into a billion little peaces and flushed them down the toilet. She just didn't know what to say. I mean, how was she suppose to let the people who had raised her and provided for her, that she was happier in California with her real mother and she didn't plan on leaving, without hurting them? It was just too hard. If she had a choice, she wouldn't even tell them. But she knew that wasn't possible. 

Thoughts of this pending letter occupied Jessamyn's mind as she walked home from work early one Friday afternoon. She was in a cheery mood, despite what problems lay in her path, and smiled happily as she made her way along. She was so distracted though that she didn't even see Charlie approaching her. So you can imagine her suprise when she walked straight into him.

"Oh, I beg your pardon, I'm so- Charlie!"

She threw her arms around him as he started laughing. He pulled her into a big bear hug and held her tight for a bit before letting her go.

"How've you been?" she asked, out of breath, realizing she hadn't seen her friend since the day before she had found Rose, almost four weeks ago. His hair had gotten a bit longer, and lighter. But all in all, he looked like himself.

Charlie nodded and shrugged his shoulders. "Um, okay." He chuckled a little bit. "Been busy with school and things like that."

Jessamyn smiled. "Yeah, I can imagine so," she said as she brushed some stray hair away from her face. 

"What about you though? Did you ever find your mom?" He seemed honestly interested in what had happened. His face had a concerned, but excited look upon it. 

"Yes, actually, I did. I'm living with her now."

Charlie's face lit up and he grinned charmingly. "That's wonderful Jess!" he exclaimed. And then, true to his fashion, he pulled Jessamyn into another warm hug. 

Jessamyn laughed as she returned the hug. She hadn't realized how much she had missed him until now and she was pleased they had run into each other. When she pulled away, she smiled at him. "It's great," she said sincerely. "She was really happy to see me too; I was worried she might not want me there. Oh, and I've found out so many things I didn't know but wanted to. Its just so exciting Charlie."

He smiled, but checked his watch hurriedly. After cursing under his breath, he shook his head. "That really is amazing Jess. And I really want to hear more, but I've got to run. I have meeting in about ten minutes." 

Jessamyn tired not to look or sound disappointed as she mumbled a soft all right. She was really hoping they could have sat down and talked for a while. 

Charlie broke into a grin as he realized that she was upset he had to leave. Not that he was happy she was sad, but just that she probably wouldn't reject his next proposal this way. "Are you busy tonight?" 

A sly smile broke out on Jessamyn's face. "No....why?" 

"Have dinner with me." It wasn't really a question. He just kind of proposed it, making it sound like she had to.

"Mr. Beaumont are you asking me out on a date?"

Charlie's floppy grin continued to be plastered across his face. "You could call it that."

Jessamyn's heart skipped a few beats when he said that. A date hmm? "Okay," she agreed. It had been so long since she had been out on a real date. 

"Great...I'll pick you up at about five-thirty..." Charlie said as he started to walk backwards away from her. "I have your address already!" he called before finally turning around and running down the sidewalk. 

Jessamyn watched until he was gone, slightly awestruck, not even bothering to worry about how he already had her address. How long had it been since a boy had paid any sort of romantic interest in her? It would probably have to have been a year or so ago, when she had had a date for one of the junior dances. Never before though, had she had a real, honest to god boyfriend. The boys in high school had liked her, she knew that, but Jessamyn wasn't the type of girl they dated. They wanted the blonde, flirty type of girls who would go behind the football stadium with them after a game. And Jessamyn was the girl who had skipped a grade and was still smarter then most of her class. She knew better then to go behind a stadium with boys. She was always their friend, but never their girlfriend. But as Jessamyn was left standing there, she began to think that it might not be so bad if Charlie wanted to take her behind a stadium. Most likely, she would follow him.

It was a half hour later when Jessamyn made it home. She came in the front door and found Rose lying on the couch in the living room, a washcloth across her forehead and a magazine in her hands.

"Hi mom. Are you alright?" she asked as she set her purse and her jacket on the floor. 

Rose pulled the washcloth from her head and gave Jessamyn a weak smile. "I'm fine, I just had a bad day." 

Rose didn't look fine, but Jessamyn didn't say so. It was probably some personal thing, she decided, and so she kept her mouth shut about it. "I'm going out with Charlie tonight; he's coming by at five-thirty, which is in about an hour."

"That's fine," Rose said absently. In fact, it didn't even look like she had really heard Jessamyn.

"I thought I would wear that black dress in your closet...is that okay?"

"Hmmm...." was the only response she got.

"And your emerald necklace...."

This time there was nothing from Rose and Jessamyn saw that her eyelids had lowered. 

"...and dance naked around the pier with all of Santa Monica watching as I do on every date...."

Rose's eyes opened swiftly and she gave Jessamyn a really odd look. "What?" she asked.

Jessamyn started laughing. "Did you even hear anything I said at all before that?"

"No, I'm sorry," Rose said apologetically, a tiny smile forming on her face. She didn't know what was wrong with her lately; she was so tired and worn out. She felt like a teenager again; every little thing was getting on her nerves and it was hard to keep her temper under control. Hopefully the asparin she had taken a little bit ago would kick in soon. 

Jessamyn asked again if she could borrow the dress and necklace and once she had gotten permission from Rose, she had scrambled off to her bedroom to get ready. The excitment of a real date had left her in a relatively good mood and she hummed to herself as she got dressed and put her makeup on. It didn't take very long because a kick of adrenaline had kicked in and she hadn't wasted any time. Even her hair, which usually didn't like to cooperate at the end of the day, went easily into a fashionably messy upsweep. And when she presented herself to Rose, she was afraid her mother might cry.

"You look so old!" Rose exclaimed. She hadn't moved from her position on the couch, but she sat up a little more and took the washcloth off. 

Jessamyn broke into a bright smile and she twirled around a few times, making the dress fly out. "I feel old," she confessed. Definitely not like a girl of eighteen. She felt at least twenty, twenty-five maybe. 

Rose took a sip of water from a nearby glass and raised her eyebrows. "Now, who is this boy?"

"Charlie," Jessamyn said as she sat down next to Rose, "do you remember him? He's the man I was telling you about when I first showed up.... the southern one.... from New Orleans."

"Ohhh yes, that one," Rose mused softly. "Southern boy Jess? At least he must have good manners, I should hope at least." She paused and then gave her daughter a sly grin. "Hmm, well, I hope you have fun. But don't stay out to late, and I mean it. And don't do anything I wouldn't do." She sensed that she probably had no right what so ever to start telling Jessamyn what to do now. She was eighteen; she could really do whatever she wanted so long as it were legal. But maybe some words of wisdom would sick in her daughter's head. 

This time it was Jessamyn who raised her eyebrows. What wouldn't Rose do? Her mother seemed to get the idea as she threw up her hands and rolled her eyes. 

"Alright, you have a point. Just...be careful, alright?"

Jessamyn nodded. "I will mom, there's nothing to worry about," she said earnestly before standing up and smoothing her wrinkled dress out. 

As if on cue, there was a loud knock on the front door. The adrenaline rush kicked in again as Jessamyn realized that it must be Charlie. As she rushed about, trying to find her dinner purse, Rose finally got up from the couch and sprinted over to the front door.  She found behind it a grinning boy.

"You must be Charlie?"

He nodded. "Yes, that's me. You must be Mrs. Dawson."

Rose moved aside to let him in and then closed the door. "I'm afraid so," she commented, a smile on her face.

Charlie held his hand out. "Pleased to meet you ma'am," he said politely as she shook Rose's hand. "Jessamyn didn't tell me her mother was quite so young looking, or beautiful for that matter." He was about to kiss the back of the hand, but Rose stopped him by softy pulling her hand away. Memories were the last thing she needed right now. Still, she couldn't help but blush a little from his comments. 

She was saved by Jessamyn coming into the front hall. Charlie's face lit up and he held out his arm. "Are you ready to go?"

Jessamyn smiled and nodded. "Goodbye mom," she said as she linked her arm with his. 

Rose called goodbye as they left, closing the door behind them with a soft click.

Jessamyn followed Charlie out. Neither of them said much until Jessamyn saw what was waiting at the curb. 

"Who did you swipe that from?" she asked excitedly, breaking free from Charlie and running toward the car. She new very well that he didn't have one and couldn't afford one.  Her brother in Maine had been quiet fascinated by cars, so she was pretty sure it was a nice, not to mention pretty expensive, automobile. It wasn't very big, but it was a soft red color with black seats.  Convertible too. She could definitely get used to this.

Charlie came up behind her and smiled. "I borrowed it from my roommate. He's a bit obsessed with it though, so we're not allowed to eat, drink, or do anything of the sort in it."

Jessamyn laughed and ran one of her fingers across the edge. "Its great," she said sincerely. 

Charlie nodded and wiped some hair away from his eyes. "Yeah. But shall we go?  I thought we could go to that Cajun place down by the pier."

Jessamyn nodded and allowed him to open the door for her and help her into the car. When he shut the door and then ran around to the other side, she couldn't help but remember what her mother had said about him about the manners and such. She had to agree.... southern to the very last.

_Hate it? Love it? Let me know.... review_!


	13. Chapter Twelve: Think Twice

_Wow…two updates in one week! LOL. Don't get used to it though, it's just because I am on Spring Break._

_Anyway, thanks again for the great reviews everyone. And kudos to PrincessTiffany who said it would make a good movie…. totally made my day! (That would be cool though…wouldn't it? Lol…)   But yeah, thank you!!!!!!_

_One more thing, someone e-mailed me and asked about the story chapter names. They are taken from songs that I either think represent the chapter, or I just think the title of the song fits the chapter lol. No reason. It was just because I was bored._

_Eh, anyway…here ya go. Enjoy._

Chapter Twelve

Dinner turned out wonderful and Jessamyn was shocked at how much she was enjoying herself. Charlie acted shy and reserved around people he didn't know sometimes, but when they were sitting together in the back of the restaurant, she saw him open up and she was reminded of why she had become his friend in the first place. She hadn't laughed so hard as she had when he told her about the time he was at his grandmother's old plantation and during a game of reenacting the civil war with some cousins (in the house no less), had accidentally blew a hole in a toilet and managed to talk his way out of it by saying he dropped something. Jessamyn thought she had mastered the art of getting out of things; obviously she had been proved wrong.

They had eaten Cajun food, which Charlie had deemed not as good as in New Orleans, but it was "all right." Jessamyn thought it was pretty good, but she decided that Charlie was probably right. If anyone should know about Cajon stuff, it was he. 

Now Jessamyn sat on a bench bolted to the wooden boardwalk down by the pier. Charlie was off getting ice cream cones, so for the moment she was alone. It was getting to her favorite part of the day, when the sun began to set behind the horizon and pained a beautiful landscape of watercolors across the dimming sky. She had never seen sunsets as beautiful as the ones in California, and had once remarked so to Rose. But her mother had just given her a tiny smile and murmured a soft, "If only you knew."

Her legs were not long enough to reach the ground unless she was sitting on the edge of the bench and since she wasn't, she dangled them over the side and just let them hang there. It had finally started to warm up and feel like spring. Jessamyn was strangely happy about the fact that she could now wear sandals and show off her feet without them becoming cold. She was admiring them when Charlie came back and sat down besides her, draping his arm casually around the back of the bench after handing her cone.

"Are you tired?" he asked after a minute.

Jessamyn, who had been yawning, managed to shake her head. "No, just...relaxed," she said happily. Her chocolate ice cream tasted so good that she wanted to be a pig and eat it quickly. Thankfully, she restrained herself and managed only to take little licks.

Neither really said much other then what had just corresponded between them. Jessamyn was wrapped up in her thoughts and Charlie was trying to think of some more questions to ask her. They had discussed everything from their school days to Jessamyn's recent realizations of what had happened to her mother and father. She hadn't told him everything, but Charlie got enough of the story to know that her parents had been through something horrible and then her father had died. Jessamyn seemed strangely reserved about the whole thing, like it was deeply affecting her, so he didn't press for any more information. 

"Do you miss home...Maine, I mean?" Charlie finally asked softly. 

Jessamyn turned slowly to look at him. Her smile disappeared and she sighed. "I don't know," she confessed. "I suppose I do, in some way. I guess I miss the familiarity, you know. I slept in the same bed, I ate dinner with the same people, I was in the same house for so many years. It's strange, even now, not having it all. But I'm getting used to life here. I feel more," she paused for a moment to think, "at home here with Rose. As much as I love the Calvert's, she is my real family. It makes my life here more comfortable. I miss Maine less and less."

Charlie wondered if her attachment to Rose had anything to do with the tragedy surrounding the death of her father, but he kept his wonderings to himself. Instead, he casually pulled her closer to him, a way of showing her that he was there for her. 

It was quiet again until Jessamyn perked up, seeing something on the beach. "Look at that!" she exclaimed excitedly.

Charlie followed her gaze. She was starting at someone galloping down the beach on a horse. There was a local guy who rented out the rides for about two dollars an hour. He was surprised Jessamyn didn't know about it yet. Knowing her, she probably would have sacrificed her week's pay for the chance to experience that thrill for longer then an hour.

"Oh, that just looks like so much fun."

"Yeah, its a favorite among tourists," Charlie explained. He'd lived there long enough to not consider himself a tourist now. "But I'll tell you what, it doesn't beat the long days on a horse in Texas."

"I thought you grew up in New Orleans," Jessamyn pointed out teasingly, poking him in the arm. And then, "Damn," as she watched her scoop of ice cream fall to the sand below. 

Charlie started laughing as he took her empty cone. "What another one?" he asked.

Jessamyn shook her head and licked the ice cream off of her fingers. "No, thank you."

He turned around and threw the cone away in a trashcan behind the bench. Then said, "I _did_ grow up in New Orleans. But my Uncle had a ranch over in Texas that my sister and I would spend summers on while my parents went to Europe or some place. I had this one horse, Albert, and I used to take him out before dawn. We'd watch the sunrise over the desert, it was amazing. You could ride and ride for hours without running into another person."

"Sounds...romantic," Jessamyn gushed softly. "Cowboy," she added teasingly after a moment.

 "Yeah, right, that's me," Charlie scoffed and then he started laughing. 

Jessamyn laughed along with him. She was enjoying their little talk, not to mention his arm around her shoulders. She could have stayed there forever, and probably would hav if Charlie had not mentioned that they take a walk. He had long since finished his ice cream and was beginning to get restless, especially since the sunset was not so brilliant now. So she agreed and got up, slightly disappointed. But when he grabbed her hand in his, she didn't object and gladly grasped it back. 

They hadn't gotten very far when Jessamyn felt Charlie tug her hand to the left and she unconsciously followed. She was kind of in a trance and didn't quite realize that they had stopped next to another bench. 

"Hey, Mr. D! Where have you been lately?

Charlie's greeting brought her out of the stupor and she was shocked to see whom he was taking to. It was none other then Mr. Jack, the man she had met on the train. How odd, she thought, that he was still here. And quite honestly, she had to admit she had forgotten about her seat partner. Assuming she would never see him again, she had let him drift out of her mind. But now he was here again.

Jack smiled, recognizing Jessamyn as well. He, unlike her, had not forgotten. Her presence was too overwhelming to forget. It was like a strange deja vu everytime he thought of her. And he couldn't explain it. How weird that she knew Charlie. What a small world.

"Hay Charlie," he finally responded. "And hello...Jessamyn, right?"

She nodded and gave him a little smile. "Nice to see you again Mr. Jack."

Charlie was notably confused as he began to look from his date to Jack. "Do you two know each other?" he asked.

"We were on the same train coming down here," Jack explained as he stood up from his seat on the bench. 

Jessamyn watched him get up and noticed he still was caring that stupid leather sketchbook around. She had _not_ forgotten the drawings that were inside it, the awful, depressing ones. But now when she thought of them she had a strange feeling come over her and held Charlie's hand tighter in a form of support. 

"Have you been here the whole time?" she asked him, her voice surprisingly cold. She could feel Charlie turn and look at her.

Jack nodded, noticing the change in her demeanor. "Yeah," he answered. "I can't bring myself to leave just yet. I've rented out a house and got a job working part time in a gallery."

"Are you still drawing?" Jessamyn blurted out the question, forgetting that he didn't know that she knew about the sketches. 

"Yeah," Jack said softly, and then he changed the subject by asking Charlie about school. He answered and they started up a conversation without Jessamyn, which was fine to her. Her mind kept fixating on that one haunting picture of the woman standing on what appeared to be an upper deck of a ship, as if the artist were watching her from above. Even now, she could remember it pretty clearly; it reminded her of someone. But she couldn't think of whom. It was only when she heard Charlie say that they had better get going that she was brought back into reality. It was dark and she wondered how long they had been standing there. Politely, she said goodbye to Jack and then let Charlie guide her down the boardwalk once again. 

When they were almost to the car, Jessamyn remembered something. "Charlie?" she asked softly.

"Mmm hmm?" was his only response. He sounded tired, but that didn't stop her from asking the next question.

"Why did you call him 'Mr. D'?"

"Because of his last name."

"Which is..."

Charlie stopped walking and dropped her hand. "Dawson," he answered softly. "I thought you knew each other," he pointed out. "Wait, he is related to your mom?"

Jessamyn didn't even hear his last question; her mind was off and running again. Jack Dawson? The drawings are what did it for her as a tiny light bulb came on in her head. But there was no way he was he same man... right? Rose had said her father had died. She had quite emotionally described his death. Jessamyn had watched her cry talking about it. Was Rose lying? She thought about it for a minute and no, she didn't think her mother would do that. There had to be more then one Jack Dawson in the world, she decided. That could be the only answer: it was simply a coincidence.  Unless....

Jessamyn turned around, ignoring Charlie's worried words, and looked toward where Jack had been. His eyes were awfully familiar, and she did have that strange feeling, like she knew him or something. Was that man her father?

"Jessamyn?"

Charlie's voice finally came through the mist in her mind and she shook her head in an attempt to bring herself back to reality.

"Are you all right?" he asked in concern.

Jessamyn linked her arm through his and smiled. "Yeah," she said softly. "I just was thinking of something."

He grinned at her. "Wanna take a drive?" he asked as they started walking again. "I don't need the car back for a while."

She nodded, "Sure Charlie." She couldn't stake the thoughts of Jack though. They stayed with her throughout the drive through the countryside and when Charlie finally took her home. Even when he kissed her, she felt disconnected from him. All she could imagine was her mother lying to her, making up the whole story. It was sick and twisted if it was indeed false and Jessamyn was about to go talk to her, but Rose was asleep. So she just went into her room and layed down. She wanted desperately to believe that it was just a big misunderstanding. But the coincidences were just to...odd, beyond normal ones at least. She couldn't very well ignore them. There had to be some explanation. There was no was this Jack Dawson was Rose's Jack. It couldn't be. 

Jessamyn finally fell asleep after racking her brain for several hours. She was going to have to do some serious research, or else have a very heated discussion with Rose. But somehow she knew things were about to change, one way or another. 


	14. Chapter Thirteen: Just Around The Eyes

_ As always, thanks so much everyone. Your reviews make me want to write more! :) I love you all *****kiss* lol…I'm really tired…_

_Anyway, enjoy. Let me know what you think!_

Chapter Thirteen

Jessamyn was up before sunrise the next morning cooking breakfast for Rose. She herself was not hungry in the least and after the sleepless night, the only thing she really felt like was coffee. Her mind was still actively occupied with the idea of Mr. Jack being her father and the reality of what that might mean was astonishing. Had there been no Titanic story? Was Jack Dawson just some random man her mother had slept with? Or was there some deeper, darker tragedy surrounding their paths? A twist of fate maybe? Jessamyn couldn't shake the feeling that it was the latter and tried her best to ignore it.

Rose got up around eight and welcomed the surprise from her daughter. She was in a better mood then the night before and enjoyed listing to Jessamyn rant and rave about her date with Charlie. Although, she did notice that Jess became suddenly reserved when talking about the end of the evening and she wondered what on earth had happened. 

Never the less, she ate her pancakes gratefully, enjoying the first hot breakfast she had eaten in years. She decided that Jessamyn's sour mood change must just been hormones or something to that effect and managed to push it to the back of her mind. She was not going to let anything ruin her perfectly good Saturday.

At around eleven, Rose announced she was going to spend the day down by the shore and asked Jessamyn if she would like to keep her company.  Jessamyn had declined, saying she had things to do, which was the truth, but lying by saying it had to do with clearing some things up with her family in Maine. She knew that her mother would not press that subject for details and thankfully had been left alone. 

Not so long after Rose left, Jessamyn started phase one of the plan she had not so carefully planned during breakfast. Cautiously, as if her mother might be there, she crept into Rose's room and started to look around, more carefully this time. It was only then that she really noticed a big chest sitting at the end of the bed. Jessamyn ran over to it and tried to open it, only to find in vein that it was locked. After some time of searching, she finally found a key ring in the bottom drawer of Rose's nightstand. Several of them she recognized, including the house and office keys, but a few were unfamiliar and she wondered excitedly if they fit the lock.

After a couple of futile tries, one of them finally turned and Jessamyn slowly opened up the heavy lid of the cedar chest. It smelled of water and roses, causing her to cough in the dust. But what she saw made up for it all.

Lying on top of a huge bunch of things was the Heart of the Ocean, stashed away in an open topped small jewelry box with some earrings, a necklace, and a few other little things. Gingerly, Jessamyn lifted the box out and set it on the floor. Underneath were some old, yellowing newspapers. These too Jessamyn took out and began to look through. All of them were dated from 1912 and there was one prevalent theme; Titanic. Most of them were just articles about the disaster. But the last one shocked her to the bone. It was from May 2nd and the headliner read "Memorial Services To Be Held in Philadelphia Today For Dead DeWitt Bukator Girl." Underneath was a picture of a woman. A woman, who, Jessamyn recognized, was unmistakable Rose. There was no doubt that the face was that of her mother. 

Jessamyn felt her breath quicken as she began to read the article. The words astonished her and she felt sick realizing that someone had held a memorial for Rose when she was really alive and well in New York at the time. How odd it must have been for her mother to see people morning over her. And yet she never told anyone. How amazing. 

There was a statement from Rose's fiancée, that Hockley man. "I am deeply saddened but the resent events and will continue to love Rose forever. Her memory will remain with me always, as will her sprit."  What bullshit Jessamyn thought. She knew very well that Hockley had remarried no less then two years later and had killed himself over money in 29. There was no way he was that sad about Rose, except for maybe the fact that he was loosing a trophy wife.

Quickly, Jessamyn realized that Rose had indeed been telling her the truth about the Titanic. There was enough evidence for Jessamyn to believe her again and she found more going through the rest of the things. There was an old, water stained dress made out of silky fabrics that could have only been from that ship and there was also a coat in the same, excuse the pun, boat. Jessamyn even found a pair of sox's, some shoes, and undergarments. But the most astonishing thing was a folded up note she found need in the inner pocket of the big black coat; a note, clearly in Rose's handwriting stating something about keeping both locked in a safe. She could make out no other words, water had damaged too much of it, but the headline read RMS Titanic. It was enough for her.

Her hands shaking, she put everything back the way she found it and sulked out into the living room, completely stuck. Her plan had counted on proving Rose wrong and then confronting her about it. But now what?

Groaning, she flopped down on the couch and stared up at the ceiling, expecting it to give her the answers. When it didn't, she got angry and got up again. Slipping on some shoes, she ran out the backdoor and towards the ocean. 

Jessamyn found Rose sitting on a blanket on the sand, a book in her hands and a huge sun had atop her head. She sat down next to her mom and waited for Rose to notice her.

"Do you need something?" Rose asked without looking up from the book.

Jessamyn didn't say anything and turned her gaze toward the Pacific. The water glistened under the bright sun and the waves were calmer then usual. She dug her hands into the sand and sighed. 

"What did Dad look like?" she finally asked. 

This got Rose's attention as she lowered the book slowly and her head turned toward Jessamyn, who just sat there, her face betraying no emotion.

"Why do you want to know?" Rose asked, her tone more angry then she expected. She sighed and then repeated herself in nicer terms. 

"I want to know what part of my looks I get from him," Jessamyn answered, half lying. She wanted to know that, but she also wanted to know for a different reason.

Rose looked away for a moment and it looked as if she were thinking hard. She knew her daughter had every right to know, but it was things like this that she hated. It just made her relive the whole thing again. 

"Um," Rose began softly, not really sure where to start. She turned her gaze back to Jessamyn and gave her a tiny, sad smile. "He was tall, but overly so, and lean. He had this," she giggled unexpectedly, "really straight, saggy blonde hair that was always falling in his face. And he had the most piercing blue eyes I've ever seen, well, expect for you. That's one thing you definitely got from him." She paused and a happier grin spread to her face. "He had the cutest, boyish smile; I loved it. Whenever he smiled, it made me smile. You've got his nose too, I've noticed that. And he had really rough, but really tender, hands..." 

Rose trailed off and Jessamyn rolled her eyes. Seriously, what was it that made her mother slip off into that little state where she got the funny grin on her face and the sad look in her eyes? It was freaky; she didn't like it.

Before she had to do anything though, her mother slipped out of the trance and smiled again. "I miss him," was all Rose said before returning to her book, as if nothing had happened.

Jessamyn got up and walked off again, this time in a different direction from the house. She walked the beach until she got to the boardwalk and from there she started a search for Jack. When she found him, he was busy with his nose in that sketchbook. So Jessamyn sat down on a bench about ten or fifteen yards away and just watched him. He was so serious and he was concentrating so hard. She also noticed that he had the same sort of characteristics as Rose had described. Of course, they were older and tired looking, but they were still there. And she could remember quite clearly how stunning his eyes had been. Were they really the same as hers?

This man certainly fit more then one of the characteristics of her father. He looked the same, could draw, not to mention he had the exact same name. The possibility of it being a big coincidence was slimming quickly. But the question was still there: how? How could this man be her father when Rose had said she had watched him slip beneath the ocean's surface, dead to the world?

When he had finished his present drawing, Jessamyn got up and walked over to him. Quietly, without being noticed, she sat down next to him

"Hello again," she said softly, as so not to startle him. 

His head turned and he smiled gently when he saw him. Yet, same simile Rose had described. Jessamyn grinned back. "Look, I want to apologize for how I acted last night. I was kind of shocked.... and I was tired."

The way she remarked about being tired reminded him of her again and Jack instantly brushed the face in his mind out. It was bad enough this girl looked like Rose, but now she sounded like her as well? This could be bad; a sleepless night was surely ahead of him.  But never the less, he had missed Jessamyn in some way and was happy she had come back. 

"It's alright," he said honestly as he began to put his drawing tools away and then closed up his sketchbook. "It's good to see you."

"Yeah, it's good to see you too," Jessamyn replied happily. "Have you been in Santa Monica this whole time?"

Jack nodded and leaned against the back of the bench and folded his legs in such a way that his right ankle rested on his left knee.  He didn't look at her, but instead out at the ocean. "Yeah," he answered. There was a brief pause, and then he spoke again. "I can't bring myself to leave." And then, to Jessamyn's shock, he reached into his pocked and pulled out a cigarette and a lighter. After lighting up, he turned towards her again. "I rented a place here and called my landlady in New York. She's renting my place out up there until I decide its time to go back." Jack turned his gaze back to the ocean and continued his smoking.

Jessamyn registered his information, but was more interested in his lighter. He had set it down on the bench and now it was glistened in the noon sunlight. She picked it up and gently turned it over in her hands. 

"Did you always smoke?" she inquired after a minute. She couldn't remember him ever doing it on the train. She peered closer and saw the reminds of a sticker on the back, but the letters were all faded away. 

"I used to," Jack answered, "and then I stopped for a while. Now it looks like I'm back at it, now that I'm back here." He glanced over at her and then reached over, taking the lighter out of her hands. "Careful with that," he cautioned her as he put it back in his pocket. "It's been through a lot, hell, I'm surprised it still works."

They continued with small talk for a while until Jessamyn announced she ought to be getting back to her mom. But for the next week she came back. Sometimes she would just sit there for hours, watching him. Other times she would talk to him. A few times she had tired to get him to talk about the past, but that was, as she was beginning to see, a closed door. He was neither interested nor willing to talk about it and Jessamyn left it at that. She wasn't going to rush him just yet.

Late one afternoon about a week from the smoking conversation, Jessamyn sat on the same bench again with him. He was always in the same general area: close to the pier, but never on or by it. They were talking about some pointless and superficial thing when a pair of men walked by. Jessamyn was unaffected and quite unaware of their conversation until she heard something that made her ears perk up. Softly, she turned around.

"...He should have known better. That god dam plan was doomed to sink like the fucking Titanic from the very straight. Straight to the bottom, eh William?"

The other man, William, laughed. "You got that right. Brought as many people down with it as well."

Both of them started laughing and continued on their merry old way, oblivious to Jessamyn and Jack. She turned slowly toward him again and was immediately shocked at what he saw. Jack's face was so pale that it could have been mistaken for a bed sheet. His eyes were unfocused, just sort of staring off into nowhere. And he held a look somewhere between very angry and just wanting to throw up right there. It was at this moment that Jessamyn knew she had found him. This was indeed her father, Jack Dawson. She was this man's daughter.

"You were there, weren't you?" was the only thing she could manage to say as her breathing became irregular and her heart sped up. This was way to huge to fathom and now she felt like she was going to be sick. What one earth had happened between her mother and him? There had to be more to this story then Rose was saying...or knew. Jessamyn's mind finally locked onto the possibility that maybe she really did think that Jack was dead...and that he thought the same about her. 

Jack hadn't heard Jessamyn's question and was broke from his trance only when she jumped up and grabbed his hand.

"You have to come with me," she demanded, pulling him up from his seat. Frantically, she tired to remember if Rose was home right now. Of course she had to be, Rose never went anywhere besides work. 

"What's going on?" Jack asked, his voice strange because he was so confused. Before she could drag him away, he remembered to grab his sketchbook and his light jacket, and then followed her. She dropped his hand only when she was sure he was going to come with her.

"Listen to me," Jessamyn said breathlessly, not only from the fast walking, but also the adrenaline rush. "I know who you are and you have to trust me."

Jack stopped abruptly, in the middle of the sidewalk, which made her stop and turn around. "What do you mean you know who I am? What's going on here?" His voice only got higher in pitch with each word he shouted. 

Jessamyn sighed in despair. "Look, I know," she said, stressing the last word.

"What?" Jack asked again. He was so confused that it wasn't even funny anymore. Either this girl knew things that she couldn't possibly, or she was just insane. He was beginning to think it was later. 

Jessamyn's stayed where she was, which was a couple yards from him, and gave him an exasperated look. "I'm not going to shout it, but does a goddamn huge blue diamond necklace ring any sort of a bell in that clouded, shut off little mess of a brain of yours." She waited for his reaction, somewhat impatiently. 

This time it was a quiet, shocked version of what that escaped from his lips. He paled again and Jessamyn was beginning to wonder if he would suffer a heart attack if she made another reference to Titanic. So gently, she walked over and looked him in the eye.

"Just...come with me.... please."

Jack nodded numbly and began to follow her again. His mind was, as she had said, a clouded little mess. He didn't know what to think. 

Jessamyn was having the same bit of a problem. She didn't know what to think. And that was the problem. She wanted to explain it all to him, but she couldn't. She didn't have any of the answers. Only he and Rose did, but they didn't know it yet. 

Her head felt dizzy as they finally rounded the corner to Rose's block and she saw the house down the street, bright within the context of the darkening sky. A storm was brewing again. She could even smell the rain coming.

Jessamyn stopped in front of Rose's house and turned, watching Jack as he caught up with her. The poor guy was in for the shock of a lifetime, as was poor unsuspecting in the least Rose. It was going to be very interesting. And their lives were about to turn upside down, yet again.


	15. Chapter Fourteen: Second Chance

_Alrighty, sorry about the delay in updates…really! You wouldn't believe how insanely busy I have been. Blah. Damn high school._

_But, thanks to school winding down and my love life…or rather lack off…I should be able to update more frequently. There are still a few more chapters to be posted!_

Chapter Fourteen

Jack was left standing alone in the middle of a dim hallway, dumbstruck and oblivious in relation to the whole situation. The last thing he remembered clearly was having Jessamyn mention a huge blue diamond. And by to look on her face and the tone in her voice, he knew she had been talking about The Heart of the Ocean. The last time he had seen that damn thing was when that stupid little steward guy had pulled it out of his, well, the coat pocket that last night on Titanic. He still remembered clearly the look on Rose's face. She looked so disappointed, so hurt. 

But what did any of it have to do with Jessamyn?

And whose house was he in? Jack looked around and stared at the simple, yet elegant furnishings. They certainly belonged to someone with fine taste. Jessamyn had just walked in, so he started to assume that this was her mother's home… hopefully. But what were they doing here? What did her mother have to do with anything?

Jack realized that he didn't even know Jessamyn's last name. Her adoptive parents, she had told him, had the last name of Calvert. But she had also said that she didn't go by that anymore. And besides, her mother wouldn't be called Calvert. How was he supposed to address her?

Wishing that he could just run away and go back to his apartment, even back to New York, Jack sighed and held his coat and sketchbook closer to body. He wished that he had known he was going to meet her family; he could have dressed in finer clothes. Right now all he wore was a simple pair of baggy khaki colored pants and an old, warn black shirt. Not to mention his hair was messed and needed in the worst way to be tamed. 

A querulous shouting match suddenly erupted from another room. It was in the direction Jessamyn had headed off to, so he tired to listen in, but he couldn't make out a word. The two voices blended together and then softly faded away. Jack could smell something that smelled like chicken from that room and he guessed it was probably the kitchen. His stomach rumbled in response to the thought of food and he remembered that he hadn't eaten since breakfast. 

Just then, Jessamyn came back into the hallway, a fatigued and irritated look upon her face.

"Everything okay?" Jack asked her as she came closer.

Jessamyn nodded. "Yeah, it will be." She paused and looked around, as if trying to deicide what to do next. "Why don't you come and sit down," she suggested and then motioned for him to follow her into a room off to the left.

Meanwhile, Rose was in the kitchen positively fuming. Her daughter had just informed her that she had brought some man home that she had met on the train from New York and then re-met town at the pier. Rose, however, was in no mood for company and hadn't made enough dinner for another person. As much as she hated to fight with Jessamyn, she had to tell her it couldn't be done. Jessamyn had argued back that the man was gravely important and that it probably wasn't to matter bout dinner. And then they got into another quarrel over whom it was. Jessamyn wouldn't tell her and Rose said she wasn't going to let some stranger just walk in and sit down with them. Jessamyn had mumbled that it wasn't a stranger and then stalked off. Rose hated fighting with her. They were two headstrong woman who both wanted different things. And besides that, when she got mad, Jessamyn got this look in her eye that reminded her of the look in Jack's eyes when they were being kept behind the locked gate by that awful little man. That really scared her. It was like being there all over again.

"For Christ sake," Rose muttered under her breath when she heard muffled voices coming from the livingroom. Looks like their guest wasn't going home anytime soon.

Sighing, she broke out an old bottle of wine from the cabinet. If they were having company, she was going to use it as an excuse to get sloshed and try to drink Jack away. She wasn't really concerned about her reputation at all. Maybe her daughter and her little friend would want to join her, she thought, so she grabbed two extra glasses and then made her way toward the living room. 

Jessamyn was sitting nervously on the couch, fidgeting with one of the cushions. She wasn't sure what was going to happen. But she wished Rose would hurry up so they could bloody well get it over well. The suspense was driving her mad at it was, not to mention the excitment knowing that she had a father now was going to her head. She wanted to run over, throw her arms around his neck, and explain who she was. But that might scare him. 

Jessamyn glanced over at Jack. He sat uncomfortably on the edge of the coach, looking around nervously. She felt a little bit sorry for him. While Rose really had absolutely no idea, he had at least had some warning and had to sit now wondering what this whole thing was about. Ha, she thought, if only he knew. 

Jack suddenly jumped up, startling Jessamyn out of her consuming thoughts. She watched as he walked toward the fireplace and then stopped in front of it. He peered closer to the mantle and then softly reached up to touch a picture frame. 

It was then that Jessamyn heard a loud crash behind her and she jumped up, spinning around. She found herself staring at Rose, who was visibly trembling, a pile of what were once wine glasses at her feet. Her eyes winded and she would have dropped the wine bottle too if Jessamyn had not quickly jumped over and taken it out of her shaking hands. 

Jack had turned around at the sound of the wine glasses breaking and now he too wore the same astonished expression. He could not speak and instead slowly started to move toward Rose. His Rose. He had seen the photograph only moments before and had not believed it. He still did not believe it. 

Rose felt like she couldn't breathe and was having a hard time collecting herself. How on earth was this happening? It looked like Jack. But how? She had watched him disappear beneath the ocean's surface. He had been dead for eighteen years. How was he suddenly here, in her living room? Jessamyn, along with everything else, was forgotten as she watched as he got closer to her. Then he stopped.

Rose burst into tears and threw herself passionatly into his arms, wanting him to be tangible. Sobbing into his shirt, she wrapped her arms around him and welcomed his returned embrace. He too starting crying and could nothing else but pull her tighter and tighter against himself. 

"Its really you, right?" he asked amidst sobs, his head buried in her hair. He felt her nod, to overcome with emotion to say a word. 

Jessamyn, meanwhile, had moved into the background and watched as her parents held each other. She even found herself becoming teary-eyed as she watched them rock themselves back and forth and mumble incoherent words. It was odd knowing that she was theirs, but at the same time feeling so disconnected. There was so much she still didn't know. However, she felt rather proud of herself, knowing that all this was because of her.

Slowly, she turned and walked back into the kitchen. They were definitely going to need some time alone. Her part would come later.

After much of the initial crying and words of disbelief had been said, Rose and Jack sat down on the couch, wrapped up in each other's arms. She was still in a state of shock, but couldn't stop smiling. And he felt a sense of relief and completeness as he held her. They sat for a long time, discussing generic things and dipping into what they had been doing for the past eighteen years before Jack finally brought up the subject they were both dreading. 

"I looked for you for so long," he murmured softly. He couldn't stop staring at her, almost as if he were to so much as blink, she would disappear again.

Rose looked away, feeling guilty as she looked out the window at the night sky. She had never looked for him one bit, assuming wholeheartedly that he was dead. She didn't want to say anything concerning that now though and instead asked, "How did you survive?"

Jack's face became sullen as he finally tore herself away from her beautiful eyes. "I woke up under the water," he mumbled, "and kicked to the surface. I don't remember anything else until I woke up in a hospital a few weeks later. They explained to me that Lowe had seen me break above he surface and had pulled me into the lifeboat." He paused for a few moments, trying to get a hold of his delicate emotions. "I had hypothermia real bad, they had to take off a few of my toes and I can't read well anymore without glasses. Not to mention thousands of other little things. But I'm alive."

Rose let his words sink in and when they did, she felt a pain in her stomach. Pushing him aside, she quickly ran into the bathroom where she became sick. Jack followed her and watched helplessly. Usually, she hated throwing up in front of people. But now she didn't care and the same thought kept pulsating through her mind. 

"You were there, we were right next to each other," she mumbled once her stomach had decided to stop its antics. She began to cry again and Jack crouched down next to her and gently pulled her back into his arms. 

"I can't believe we missed each other. Jack, you were right next to me," she cried softy to him.  "I just got off that lifeboat and sulked around. I don't even remember much of that trip home. If I had just stopped in that hospital Jack..."

"And if that damn ship had just turned earlier," he said pointedly before lifting her chin so she would look at him. "Rose, there's nothing we can do now."

She wiped her mouth with one hand and her tears away with the other. "I just..."

Jack nodded as he placed a finger over her lips. "I know," he said softly. Rose began to cry once again and he sat down completely, pulling her into his lap and rocking her back and forth. His mind was muddled with a thousand different thoughts. Why hadn't he been able to find her?

"Your name wasn't on the list," he said after she had calmed down a little bit. She sniffled and mumbled a soft 'yes it is' into his shirt. 

He shook his head. "No, I looked a thousand times. No Rose DeWitt Bukator at all."

Rose lifted her head and her lips formed a soft, but sad, smile. "No, but Rose Dawson is." She watched the placid look on his face turn to shock and couldn't help laughing a little bit before she settled comfortably into his arms once again. 

Jack grounded in disbelief. "Are you serious?" And then without waiting for an answer to the first question, he asked, "Why?"

"I didn't want anyone to find me. And besides, I wasn't that DeWitt Bukator girl anymore Jack."

He couldn't say anything; his heart was so full of honor and pride. Softly, he closed his eyes and hugged her closer. That explained a whole lot: why he couldn't find her name, why the workers had never recovered a body.

"I thought you had broken your promise."

All that came from Rose was a sobbing sound and a swift shaking of her head. "Never," she finally murmured. Her soft crying persisted for some time as they once again sat in a disbelieving, wordless, tangle of bodies, this time on the floor not the couch. Slowly, though, the crying tampered off and then it was just quiet. Jack had quite forgotten that they were not alone until he heard a door open and then shut down the hall. It was then that he remembered Jessamyn.

And then the only though was: oh my God.... Jessamyn!

Until just this moment he hadn't made the connection, his mind had been to occupied with Rose. But now, as he stared at the wall in front of him, he realized clearly who and what the girl was.

He had a daughter.

And not just any daughter, a daughter he and Rose had created together. He feared that he might be sick now as he started to envision Rose all alone and pregnant at seventeen. And then she had given the baby up for adoption! How terrible it must have been for her. No wonder she was so emotional. What she went though had to have been a hundred times more damaging then what he had experienced. She had to lose someone close to her two times in nine months. The pain must have been amplified too, what with the hormones and such. He couldn't fathom losing a child, much less having to willingly give one away when it was the last bit of a dead loved one. 

Oh, how guilty he felt now, even more so then before. They could have been a happy family, a real family, if he had looked harder, if he had considered the last name. But it hadn't happened and now there were eighteen years lost. Jessamyn had grown up before he even knew he had a child and without Rose there to watch. 

"Rose?" his voice broke through the silence. He wanted to apologize and ask her about her courage. But when she didn't acknowledge him, he turned his head to look at her.

She was asleep; tear tracks running down her face and her mouth carved into a sweet smile. Having not the heart to wake her, Jack positioned his arms around her and then stumbled to his feet with her in his arms. 

Slowly, he made his way down the hall to the only open door and entered, fining her bedroom. She was lighter then he remembered her being, and he realized that he could fell her bones more clearly then he could before. And he also remembered that the last time he had held her like this was when they were joking around and he had pretended like he was going to throw her overboard. If only they had known then. If only....

Gently, Jack laid her down on one side of the bed after pulling away the quilt and sheet. She made a sound but did not wake up. So he covered her up with the blankets and then stood there for a few minutes, just watching her sleep. He had never seen her sleep before. 

Her face was so familiar even now and her beauty had no faded one bit. She was older looking, but he had to remind himself that they were not teenagers anymore. It had been eighteen long years, but never the less, he couldn't believe his luck. He'd always hoped that somewhere she was still alive and was making a life for herself, even if it wasn't with him. That past imagine filled him with a better feeling then imagining to her dead and it also took away some of the guilt of knowing that he had survived. 

That morning, he had woken up dreading the day, knowing that he would have to face it alone once again. But then Jessamyn had shown up and eventually led him back home. His daughter had led him home.  He would have to thank her in the morning. 


	16. Chapter Fifteen: Falling into You

_Thought I better update before an angry Artichokey came over me in the dark of night…seriously…starting to get worried lol. But hey, thanks everyone for the awesome comments on last chapter. I was really nervous on how y'all were going to receive it. But yey! Anyway, as promised, here is the next chapter. And having absolutely no experience the subject that you will soon be immersed in, I hope I did all right. Please let me know. _

_Oh wait, mood music you ask?  Bruce Springsteen's "Secret Garden" Celine Dion's "It's All Coming Back to Me Now" and/or Norah Jones' "Come Away With Me." All really, really great songs. Have them on in the background or something lol. _

Chapter Fifteen

Rose's jade eyes fluttered open abruptly and she gazed out the window across from her, realizing quickly that she was in her bedroom and that it was night. It was cold, so she snuggled deeper into the covers. Her mind immediately fixated on the fact that Jack's return must have been a dream. It was too good to be true and he wasn't there now. Another stupid dream. 

The tears started to fall and she tried to stop them, but failed miserably. She had wanted him to be real so badly. And the worst part was that it felt so real that she would have sworn it was. She could even taste the horrible flavor of vomit that seemed to be lingering still in her mouth. But no, here she was, supposedly alone. She didn't even bother to look behind her, assuming it would be a void space and a huge disappointment. 

Unbeknownst to her though, Jack, who was indeed behind her, had woken up when she had started to sob and he watched as her shoulders heaved.  It all came back to him immediately and he remembered why he was in her bed. He had lain down next to her, promising himself that he would just watch for a while to make sure she was all right.  He must have fallen asleep too. Now, Rose had curled into a little ball and was muttering something he couldn't understand until she said his name quite clearly. 

Gently, he reached across and touched her shoulder. Her body froze and he heard her whimper. Softly, he whispered her name and watched as she slowly turned her head toward him. Her crying tampered off as she looked into his eyes.

"You're here," Rose stated hoarsely. "You weren't a dream." She heard herself say it, but she wanted him to confirm it. 

Jack chuckled and nodded his head in affirmation; he wasn't a dream. He wanted to move closer to her as they were a couple of feet apart, but he didn't know if she would welcome that or not. So instead he just stayed where he was.

"Are you okay?" he asked quietly.

Rose nodded as she rolled all the way over, so that she could face him comfortably. "I just, I thought it had all been a dream and I got scared that I would have to get up knowing what could have been." She smiled softly and wiped some of her tears away. "Did I fall asleep?" she finally asked, knowing that the answer was yes.

"Yeah, in the bathroom. I carried you in here and then I guess I fell asleep too."

"You've been here the whole time?"

"Uh huh," came Jack's soft reply. 

Rose smiled and then surprisingly reached over to turn on a bedside lamp before sitting up. She drew her knees to her chest, resting her chin on them, and then sighed heavily. Jack watched her with curiosity. She seemed to be thinking something over and then finally, without looking at him, she spoke. 

"Jack, I think you should go."

"What? Go where?" Jack's voice cracked as he spoke and he sat up as well, moving closer to her. "I'm not leaving you."

"Jack…"

"No, I'm not leaving your side ever again. Ever. I don't want to lose you again. And besides, it's like midnight. I'm not talking back to my apartment alone…its not in a great part of town." The pitiful excuse wasn't worth a dime, especially since they both knew he had lived alone for years in a less then reputable section of New York. But it was worth a short and Jack took it. 

Tears started to stream down Rose's cheeks again. "Jack, I don't want to you go either, but-"

"But what?" he demanded gently, cutting her off.

It was only now that she turned and looked at him. His hair was mused, all of it brushed to one side and his shirt was rumpled. His eyes, though, were peering into her and in them she saw hurt. Oh, how she hated to do this to him. "You know what's going to happen if you stay here and well, I'm stared that something will happen and you'll leave again. And I'll be all alone. What if I get pregnant again or something Jack? What if it _really_ is a dream?"

Jack didn't say anything but softly brush away some of her tears and then slowly leaned in towards her. Before she could protest, he kissed her soundly and thoroughly and eventually got her to respond. He didn't even mind that she had thrown up hours before. And just when he could feel her getting used to it, he broke away and looked into her eyes. 

"I promise you, I won't leave. You will never wake up and find me gone, ever again. We're not on the Titanic anymore Rosie. I'm going to disappear beneath the ocean. And this isn't a dream." Slowly, he brushed his index finger along her arm and watched as the goosebumps arose. She was weakening, he could tell. Her wanted to tell her he was scared too, he was worried that it might all go away. But deep down he knew it wasn't going to and that kept him from succumbing to the doubt. He waited, somewhat impatiently, as her eyes searched his and she searched her mind for a response.  

"I need you," he finally confessed. That won her over and she immeadlty started to smile softly. He grinned back and moved even closer. "I've dreamed about this for eighteen years Rose. You're not going to get me to leave." And with that, he leaned in and kissed her again, deeper and more urgently then before. And this time, she warmed up to him in no time

Rose couldn't believe she was sitting here with her tongue in Jack's mouth and kissing him as passionatly as she was. This was definitely not a dream. This was the real, honest to god thing. He was here. And before she knew it, she had shifted so that she was facing him. He paced his hands on either side of her face and they continued their occupation of each other for some time. Jack made some quick progress though as he started to push her down on her back and then laid half on top of her, his mouth never once leaving hers.

When they finally did break for air, Jack gazed down at her with questioning eyes as he tired to catch his breath. 

Rose answered his unsaid question by nodding and then whispering, "I need you as well Jack."

He grinned down at her as he lovingly stroked her hair. "Okay…on one condition…"

"Oh yeah?" Rose smiled teasingly. "And what's that?" 

"You _have_ to go brush your goddamn teeth."

Rose started laughing and pushed him off of her. "Alright." She leaned over and kissed him once on the cheek. "I'll be right back."

Jack was chuckling as she sauntered off toward the door and then out of the room. He smiled to himself and then stretched out, reaching above his head and yawning. Even though he was tired, there was no way he was going to sleep just yet. 

And so he lay there, waiting impatiently for her to return. He glanced at the clock. It was just past midnight. The whole house was silent expect for the gently roll of the ocean outside and a soft, faint tick-tock sound coming from an elegant grandfather clock in the hallway. Jack hazily remembered passing when he brought Rose into her room. It was dark too, much darker then his apartment downtown and almost black compared to New York. 

New York. What was he going to do now? Jack wondered as he suddenly realized he wouldn't –couldn't- go back. The city represented his old, dark, void of Rose life. There was no way he was returning. But what would Rose want. Did she even want him there?

Of course she does, you jackass. He chided himself for even thinking such a thing. If she freaked out when she thought he was gone, what would she do if he actually did leave? He couldn't imagine it, and couldn't imagine himself leaving her either. He missed her already and she had been gone no more then three minutes. 

When he looked up again she was in the doorway, stunning him to the point of breathlessness with her hair out of its upsweep and falling around her shoulders and a soft glow from either the lamp or possibly excitement, Jack couldn't tell. Either way she looked fantastic. 

Rose started blushing as she watched him stare at her with that awed look in his piercing eyes. She was suddenly very nervous. This was Jack. How long had they both waited for this. 

"I brushed my teeth," was the only thing she could manage to say. And even that was mumbled looking down at the ground. 

Jack didn't response and she slowly looked up to find him smiling softly. He held out his hand and Rose came inside the room, closing the door and locking it behind her. Dreamlike, she walked toward him in what were agonizingly slow steps. And when she finally did pause before the bed, he only smiled more brightly then before. 

Rose was trembling slightly as she climbed up onto the bed and crawled over to where he was propped up on some pillows. Everything seemed to pass slower as she then softly kissed him. She was trying to make this as natural as possible, but it was hard. She wanted so badly to make him happy. 

Jack noticed her shaking hand and wrapped his own around it. "Are you all right?" he asked softly when they broke from their kiss. She nodded and managed to give him a gentle smile.

"Yes, Jack," she whispered. "Just…. nervous is all." Her honesty surprised even herself. But it was just so easy to talk to him. 

Now he was nervous as he realized she was. But before he could dwell on it too much, he felt Rose's lips back upon his and he decided to try and forget about the subject. Her shaking seemed to subside somewhat as he pulled her closer and they settled against each other. Their intimate exploration of each other's bodies continued as Rose became bolder and Jack felt that lost night come back to him. Everything that had once been so familiar came back quickly as they once again found each other. 

Tentatively, Jack moved over her and began to kiss the hallows of her neck, tenderly at first and then with more urgency as the situation at hand progressed. And never the one to disappoint, Rose started to fumble with his shirt buttons. But she soon found it difficult to even get to them and promptly gave up until Jack's mouth was once again upon hers. As soon as the thing was undone, she broke the kiss and searched his eyes before tugging on the shirt and slowly bringing it up over his head. For a moment, she just stared at his bare chest, running her hands gracefully over the exposed flesh.

"You've changed," she mumbled hoarsely. She didn't mean it meanly. In fact, it looked like he had gained more muscle in their time apart. And in short, he looked fantastic. 

Jack chuckled a bit. "I'm not twenty anymore. And besides, I spent a couple of years lifting crates down in a pier in New York…. you build up muscles." But he was suddenly self-conscience of his own body, and tried to distract Rose from his chest by running his fingers along her neckline. But she responded by gently kissing him on the stomach and leaving a trail of such up the middle of his chest, up his neck, and finally reaching his mouth. This, of course, drove Jack mad and he kissed her fiercely back. 

All barriers of nervousness or embracement of self were then cast aside as clothes began to rapidly fly. They began to discover things they had never known and some they had painfully forgotten, and when the time came for Jack to enter her, Rose just gave a swift nod of her head. 

Once again, they possessed heaven on earth and continued to stay there until the sun began to rise in the distant east and light began to illuminate the earth once again.

Rose settled comfortably against Jack in spoon like fashion and let him hold her. Blankets enfolded them as they watched the sky become lighter as the minutes ticked away. It was probably the most beautiful thing she had seen in her life aside from her daughter. And as far as she was concerned, it had better this time. They didn't have to rush out of there and had had time to actually make love to one another. 

"I missed you so," she whispered softly into the quietness.

Jack kissed the back of her neck trailed up to her ear. "Me too," he whispered back, leaving her skin just long enough to murmur it. Then he was back at it, kissing down her neck this time, across her shoulder blades, and across her back. 

She smiled and closed her eyes, sighing happily. "Jack…. we can't," she protested after a minute. She knew very well what would happen if he kept this up and Jessamyn would be awake soon. And then they would have to get up. It had been hard enough to stop the first time; she knew she couldn't do it again. 

Jack pretended to groan miserably, but obeyed her request and laid his head down behind hers.  Her hair smelled of roses and he buried his face in her soft curls. He could stay here forever, if only they had that long. Eventually, he knew, they would have to get up.

"I love you," he suddenly whispered into her ear. He had been waiting to say it and now seemed like the perfect time. 

Rose was shocked and closed her eyes as the tears began to form. He loved her. They were words she had never expected to hear him confess to her as long as she lived. But he was here, saying them, now. How long had she waited for this moment? 

"I love you too Jack, so much," she whispered back. She felt his embrace on her tighten as she uttered the words. 

"I'm sorry I didn't tell you before. But I always did, you know. From the moment I saw you." He felt her nod, but she did not say a word. He knew she knew. Slowly, he started to kiss the back of her neck. Rose responded by leaning back, closer to his body.

"Jack, there is so much we need to talk about," she said after a minute. He stopped kissing her and leaned over her body, peering into her eyes.

"Like what?" he asked softly, kissing the top of her nose. 

Rose rolled over in his arms so that their faces were only inches apart. "Jessamyn, "she replied, "among other things."

"She's so beautiful Rose."

She nodded in agreement. "I know. But Jack, she's probably really confused. I'm still a little confused."

 "How much did you tell her?"

Rose blushed and buried her face in his chest. "Everything," he heard her mumble into his skin.

"Everything…. everything?"

"Yes, the whole thing."

Jack started laughing, surprising Rose. She brought her head up and looked at him. "What's so funny?" she asked, smiling as she did so.

"Nothing, I just love you," he replied, kissing the top of her nose again.

Rose gave him a sly look and shook her head. "But what are we going to do with her Jack. She needs to know what happened to you for one. And two she doesn't want to leave, she's told me that. But she still has her adoptive family back in Maine; they're going to interfere at some point. She told you the whole story right?"

Jack nodded. "Yes, well, except she didn't know you or me then, but she told me what had happened to her. And then this past week she's explained to me why you did it. Now I understand."

Rose chose to not comment on why she let Jessamyn go. As far as she was concerned, that was the biggest mistake of her life. She would give almost anything to have those eighteen years back. If only she had known that life in Santa Monica would be better then in New York. 

"Well, I don't want to force her to stay with us-" she cut herself off. Us? How did she even know Jack was going to stay? She had just assumed so. But what if he had other plans? 'Oh my God,' she thought miserably, as thought after thought entered her head, 'what if he doesn't even want a daughter?' Tentatively, she looked up at him and to her surprise found him smiling. 

"You didn't think I was actually leaving, did you?" he asked, reading her mind. 

Rose started blushing and shrugged. "I didn't know if you wanted to go back to New York or something…"

"I'm staying here Rose. I mean, as long as you want me to."

"Of course I do!"

"And Jessamyn will stay with us, as long as she wants to." Jack inched closer to her with every word until his nose was just touching hers. 

Rose nodded. "Okay," she said, smiling. "Sounds good."

Jack grinned back at her and then lay back on the pillows, releasing Rose from his arms. "I'm tired," he remarked as he, oh-so-appropriately, yawned. 

Rose moved over him and let her chin come to rest on his chest. She watched as he stared back at her, his eyes ever so slowly closing. "Are you really going to go to sleep on me?" she asked tenderly. 

"Only if you join me," he remarked groggily as his eyes shut all the way.

"Well, in that case…" Rose sat up, bringing the sheet with her and was about to get out of the bed, hoping he would follow her. She could think of better things they could do besides sleep. But instead, she felt his arm come around her waist and his powerful arm pull her back down.

"I'm cold," was his excuse as she settled next to him. 

"Uh huh," Rose teased, smiling at him. But she didn't move. She simply laid one of her arms behind him on the pillow, let the other one drape across his chest where her hand was met with Jack's, and causally crossed one of her legs across his. Her head came to rest next to his and she gently kissed the side of his cheek before closing her own eyes. There was still a lot more to discuss and so much more to do, but as far as Rose was concerned, it could all wait until later. Suddenly, sleep didn't seem like such a bad idea anymore. 


	17. Chapter Sixteen: Takes A Little Time

_Yey…a new chapter! Sorry it took me a little longer to get this one in, I was on vacation. Sad fact though: there are only going to be like two or three more chapters after this! Sigh. I found the perfect BWU song though! It's by Bruce Springsteen and its called "Back In Your Arms"…how appropriate is that! Anyway, here is an example of how pathetic I am: I actually burned a "Back With You" soundtrack on my computer. Its really, really sad. But its cool lol. If you want the tracks, visit: _

_Enjoy and review!_

Chapter Sixteen 

Jessamyn didn't sleep a wink that night. She lay tossing and turning, her mind a clutter of thoughts. Sleep would be a good thing, she decided at around one in the morning, but whenever she would be close to catching it, the little devil would taunt her and move farther away after filling her head with more questions. And it didn't help matters that she shared a wall with her mother's bedroom either. You would think they would be able to keep it down, but no.

So, before dawn she finally gave up and slugged out of bed. Almost falling over from the fatigue, she managed to make it into the bathroom to take a quick and cold bath to wake herself up. But even that attempt failed somewhat and as she got dressed and dried her hair with a towel, she felt the headache that haunted those with no sleep return. 

Coffee was her next mission. Thankfully, Rose had bought some more just a few days ago. Jessamyn made the strongest, blackest brew she could manage and with a mug in her hand, went outside to sit and watch the sun come up. 

She so badly wanted to run inside and wake her parents up, demeaning that they tell her what happened. But she knew she couldn't. It was very frustrating having all these questions and finding no answers. And while she understood that they needed time to be with each other right now, she was still their daughter. She was the innocent third person in their little tragedy and she wanted answers. 

Jessamyn was on her second cup of coffee when she finally decided that she was mad at both of them. Mad at Rose for not finding her father, for giving her up, and just because she had the whole thing twisted. And Jack, he was a worthy enemy too. She didn't even know how he had become separated from her mother, and she didn't care. All she knew was that she was mad at him too. If he had been around, none of this stupid mess would have happened.

All of the sudden, Jessamyn started to cry. She felt immediately guilty that she had possessed such thoughts. Rose had only been trying to give her a better life when she gave her up. And maybe Jack had looked for Rose but had given up after a while, deciding it was hopeless. Maybe they had been hurt deeper then anyone else would or could never know. But still, Jessamyn couldn't stop the tears from falling. Before she had found out the truth about Mr. Jack, she had been happy here with Rose. She had been content with what had happened. But now she was so confused and so hurt. She wanted to go back to Maine and make everything go away. She wanted her old life, before Rose, before Titanic, before Jack, before any of this had happened. She wanted what she used to know: that she was the daughter of Elizabeth and James Calvert, that she had brothers and sisters, that she was a normal girl.

But she couldn't go back to Maine. The yearnings for the Atlantic sea air, her old haunts, her old friends, was strong, but she knew that if she went back she would only miss the life she had here. Santa Monica and Rose were home now. The chapter that was her childhood had ended. She couldn't go back. Things were never going to be the same again.  But even so…

Wiping her tears away, Jessamyn got up and walked back inside. She needed to get away for a couple hours, to sort her mind out. But where could she go? She didn't have a car, or much money. And there was really only one person she would want to see right now.

Quickly, Jessamyn grabbed a piece of paper and scribbled a note to Rose on it. She left it on the counter, where her mother would surely not miss it and then grabbed her jacket before quietly slipping out the front door.

She walked around town for almost an hour, just thinking. And before she knew it, she had ended up on the front steps of Charlie's apartment. It was around seven, so she knew he probably wasn't even awake yet. But even so, she knocked a few times and then just stood there with her hands stuffed in her pockets.

He eventually made it to the door and opened it, peeking around the edge so that whoever was there wouldn't see his pajamas. Needless to say, he was shocked to see Jessamyn standing there. She looked terrible, if he was being honest. Tear streaks ran down her cheeks and her eyes were red and puffy. Not to mention she had the most depressed and lost look on her face that Charlie had ever seen on a person in his life. 

"Jess? Are you all right?" he asked cautiously. 

Jessamyn looked down for a minute and then finally looked back at him. "Can I sleep on your couch for a couple of hours?" she asked, avoiding his question.

Charlie looked really confused, but he nodded and moved aside to let her in. He was expecting her to make some comment about his clothes, but she didn't even notice them. It was then that he knew that something was going on. He watched in concern as she wearily made her way into his home and over to the couch. In one motion, she sat down as her arms flopped into her lap. Her eyes were focused nowhere, they just simply stared into oblivion.

"Are you all right?" he asked again as he slowly moved toward her. Gently, he sat down next to her and waited for an answer. 

Jessamyn shook her head and then shrugged her shoulders. "I didn't sleep all night," was all she said. 

That was obvious. Charlie wasn't sure what he should do next. Something was definitely going on, but she seemed so fragile, as if he said the wrong thing she might brake. Cautiously, he gently placed his arm around her shoulders and drew her to him. She had scarcely lain her head down when hot tears began to fall from her eyes.

"Its all horribly twisted Charlie," she sobbed into his shirt. "I'm so confused and it's all a big mess. I don't know how I am going to face them. I'm embarrassed too." Her words ran together, making it hard for him to understand. 

"Who? Who can't you face?" Charlie asked softly. 

"My mom and dad. Oh, Charlie, everything has just changed so much. I had finally come to accept what had happened and then he comes back and changes it all. And its not like I'm not happy for them or that he's back, but I just don't understand."  She started to cry so hard that it was hard to even hear her.

Charlie sat there and just held her, thinking of what she had said. Her father was here? She had told him that he was dead. This was certainly something new. "What do you mean, your dad?" he asked cautiously, scared as to how she would react. . 

Jessamyn stopped crying and pulled away from her comforter. "You know that man…Jack Dawson," she mumbled hoarsely, looking down at her hands. "He's actually my father…I guess." She hadn't heard her mother confirm this, but from the way both of them had reacted to seeing one another, she could assume no less was true. She glanced up at Charlie and wiped some tears from her sore eyes. 

He looked at her in shock. Mr. D, the pier artist, was her father? "I don't understand," he confessed aloud. 

"I don't either!" Jessamyn wailed and then before she could start crying again, she broke down and told him everything. Without giving specific details or anything, she spilled the whole story of her mother and the Titanic and everything to Charlie. She didn't even care that her mother had told her not to tell anyone. Its not like Charlie was just some random person she had met on the street. He sat there, even more stunned, and listened to her for the better part of twenty minutes until she finally finished. "And so now I am really confused because-" she sniffled "-I don't know weather or not to believe her and if it is true then why didn't my dad look harder? And why didn't she? And I just…I just…" she broke down crying again and Charlie immediately moved to wrap his arms around her. 

"Jess, darlin' you're going to be all right. But you know what? You really need to talk to them…especially your mom," he whispered into her hair. He felt her nod, but she didn't say anything. So he just sat there with her until she finally stopped crying and ventured to look at him. 

"You going to be okay?" he asked.

Jessamyn nodded again and then moved away from him. "Can I sleep?" she asked, her voice suddenly sounding very tired. 

Charlie started chuckling, but he nodded. "Of course," he said sincerely. Gently, he helped her lay down and then reached behind them to grab a blanket. Standing up, he covered her up and then handed her a couch pillow. 

"When do you want me to wake you up?" he asked quietly. 

Jessamyn shrugged and pulled the blanket closer to her chin. "I don't care," she said amidst a big yawn and then her eyes flickered closed. 

Smiling, Charlie reached down and softly stroked her hair. She smiled, but didn't open her eyes or acknowledge him beyond that. So he mouthed a 'goodnight' and then went back to his bedroom. There was still some shuteye time that he needed as well. 

Meanwhile, Rose was still in a deep content sleep, warm in her bed. Jack, who had woken up sometime before, was still beside her, just watching her. She would breathe in, and then breathe out, and he was sure he had hardly ever seen anything so amazing in his entire life. Yesterday at this time he believed he would never see her breathe again. And now here she was, lying on her stomach, her face turned toward him and her bare shoulders just…there. 

Jack smiled to himself and softly draped his arm around her shoulders. This was too much for him to handle, he needed her to be awake. Gently, he placed tiny kisses on her very available lips until she finally made a sound. 

Rose was sure she was waking up in heaven as her eyes fluttered open to Jack's mouth on hers. She was met with his eyes staring into hers and she smiled as he did the same. 

"Hey you," she whispered. 

"Morning," he whispered back. 

"What time is it?"

Jack kissed her again; he couldn't resist, and then said, "After ten…you slept a long time."

Rose groaned happily and rolled over onto her back. "I was a little warn out," she said slyly, rolling her eyes toward him.

Laughing, Jack moved to lean over her. "That good huh?" he teased, smiling down at her. 

Rose stretched her hands above her head, a move that just about killed Jack. "Oh, you know it," she whispered, bringing her arms back down and on the way wrapping them around Jack's neck. "We need to talk to Jessamyn," she reminded him before he could say anything else.

"I know," Jack said nodding. "But I think I heard her leave this morning."

Rose sighed and pushed Jack off of her so she could sit up. "I really wanted to explain things to her right away," she groaned, dangling her legs over the side of the bed and looking at the floor. 

Jack sat up behind her. "She'll be back later…right? I mean, where could she have gone?" he asked, taking the liberty to rest his chin on her right shoulder.

Rose turned her head and kissed him softly. "True," she whispered before she broke out into a bright smile. "Now if you'll excuse me, I'm famished." 

He watched her get up and cross the room and dear Lord she was naked while she did it. It hurt in places that he didn't even realize he had when she opened her closet, grabbed a light green bathrobe, and then wrapped it around herself. It was like watching a very sexy movie, except he was a part of it. 

"You going to come?" she asked, turning around and cocking her head. 

Her words knocked him out of his stare and Jack nodded. He realized he best get some clothes on too and he looked around, picked up a few pillows and threw them aside, and then looked back toward her. "What happened to my…shorts?" he asked before he burst out laughing. 

Rose broke into that bright smile he loved, but she came over and started throwing blankets around. Jack shrank back when she pulled his sheet away and then started laughing. "I don't know where they are," she said giggling. 

But he wasn't looking at her anymore, he was looking past her. Rose followed his gaze and turned around. Hanging on a lamp across the room were the shorts. She blushed, realizing she must have flung them over there, and quickly went to go retrieve them. 

"Here," she mumbled, thrusting them in front of Jack's face. He grinned at her and then slipped them on. After quickly finding his pants among the sheets, he got out of bed and put those on as well. 

Rose stood across from him, her hands on her hips, and watched him, a placid look on her face. She was still in a state of shock that this man was here. The past eighteen…no…nineteen years, nineteen years now, had been nothing but pain and suffering, a day to day struggle to make it through one more night alone, knowing that she would have to wake up and do it all over again. Even having Jessamyn back had not filled the void left in her soul by Jack. But then, in one instant, all of that had changed. Her heart finally felt like it wasn't to fail her at any moment. 

Jack noticed her staring at him and he slowly came toward her. "You all right?" he asked tenderly, wrapping his arms around her waist.

Rose leaned against his body and did nothing but smile up at him. Of course she was all right. She was perfect in every single way! Nothing, absolutely nothing, was going to get her down. She wanted to stay like this for the rest of her life.

"C'mon," he said softly, "let's go get that breakfast." 

Rose let him lead her out of the room but before they could get very far, she stopped him. They had passed by Jessamyn's room, reminding her of something she wanted to show him. 

"Come in here a minute," she said, taking his hand and dragging him back to the room. Out of force of habit, she knocked on the door and then pushed it open. Jessamyn was indeed gone, but her bed was unmade and clothes were thrown around the room. Rose sighed and picked up a few things, throwing them on the bed before crossing the room to the closet. Jack watched her with curiosity and was confused when she came out holding a big cardboard box. 

"What's that?" he asked as she sat it down on the floor with a huff.

Rose ignored his question, but beaconed him over with her index finger. She sat down next to the box and invited him to do the same. When they were situated, she pulled open the folded flaps and then turned to smile at him. 

"I went back to Chippewa Falls about five or six years ago," she explained. "And while I was there, I met this woman –Mrs. Bradley, I think was her name- and she gave me this box of your things that she had lying around. I suppose you left it after the fire, or something…" her voice trailed off.

Jack hardly heard the last part though, as he stared in shock at the box. He hadn't the courage to go back to his hometown and had often wondered what had happened to his things. It was a still a sore spot in his life that he hadn't wanted to revisit, knowing that it would be hard for him to take. 

"It's not anything really exciting," Rose was saying, her voice finally breaking through to him.

Oh, but it is! He wanted to shout to her. This meant so much to him, that he couldn't explain it. His mouth had, at some point, gone dry though and he couldn't speak. In slow motion, he reached in and pulled out a handful of things. His first sketchbook was among them and he looked at it in disbelief. One of the few things that had survived the fire, he had kept it safe with him those last few months in town and, when he left, had left it in the care of Mrs. Bradley, thinking he would be back within a few weeks. After he didn't return, he was sure she had thrown it out. 

Finding his voice, he finally managed to get out, "I can't believe she kept all this." 

Rose had noticed the change in his mood and knew it was better if she didn't say anything. Tenderly, she wrapped her arms around his waist and rested her head on his shoulder, watching as he continued to go through his things. She had looked over them so many times; they were all very familiar to her. But Jack looked over each one with awe and regarded them as each little treasures. When he pulled out the shoe, she noticed tears well up in his eyes. Rose pulled away from him as he turned it over and over, looking at it as if it were the best thing in the world.

"What? What is it?" she asked, not able to keep silent any longer. All this excitement over a shoe?

Jack turned toward her, his hands shaking. "Watch," he whispered as he turned the shoe over and started feeling around the sole. Rose looked curiously as he finally found the spot he was looking for, and, to her shock, pulled back a tiny piece of the rubber. Her eyes widened when he reached inside and pulled out a ring.

Jack broke out into a smile and held it out for her to take, which she did with tender fingers. It was a silver band with three turquoise stones paced on it, two very small diamonds separating the other stones. 

"What is this?" Rose asked in amazement, looking back at him.

"It was my mother's," he answered, taking it back from her. "It was the most expensive thing she ever owned. Dad got it for her as an engagement present because he couldn't afford a real diamond ring- the diamonds are fake- with gold and everything. She never had wedding band either, just this. God, I thought I'd lost this on my way to California. I guess I just never took it out of here. It was one of the only things of hers that made it through the fire."  He stared at the ring, his mind flashing back to a warm night in June when his mother had explained to him where it came from and how special it was to her. She'd loved that ring and it hadn't been off her finger until she died. Jack finally blinked himself back into reality and then looked back at Rose. 

"Here," he whispered, handing it back to her. "I want you to have it." 

"Jack, I- no, it's yours," she tried to protest, pushing his hand away from her. She didn't want to take it away from him.

Jack grabbed her left hand though and held the ring above her ring finger. "Please," he begged, "take it."

"Jack-"

"Consider it your engagement ring," he offered, cutting her off. 

Rose jerked her head up and looked at him in shock. "What?" she asked, her voice cracking. Her engagement ring?

Jack broke into a bright smile. "I want you to marry me Rose. I want you to be my wife. I want us to be together for the rest of our lives. I want to spend every single day waking up next to you and I want to spend them all trying to make you as happy as you can be. Will you marry me and give me that chance?" he asked, looking into her eyes, which had widened into two big circles. 

Rose was completely taken off guard. She had not seen this coming. All she could do was nod. What else was she suppose to say? 'A yes, might be good Rose,' she thought to herself and then managed to say it. "Yes Jack, of course I will," she whispered. Her hands trembled and her heart beat loudly as he slipped the ring onto her finger. It fit a little snug, but as far as Rose was considered, that was fine. She wouldn't lose it this way.

Before she had time to react, Jack's lips were on hers and he was kissing her. Tears formed in her eyes and she had started crying happily by the time he broke away. "How long have you been rehearsing that one?" she teased, trying to wipe her tears away, but failing. 

Jack grinned at her. "Since this morning. I knew I was going to do it, I just didn't think it would be in an hour," he answered before kissing her again, softly and quickly this time.  "Now c'mon," he said, standing up, "I really need something to eat." As if to emphasize the point, his stomach growled loudly.

Rose laughed, still trying to get her tears under control. She held out her hands for Jack to help her up and he did. Once standing, she re-tied her bathrobe and then smiled. "All right," she agreed, her voice shaky. "Let's go." 

*****

Jessamyn didn't leave Charlie's apartment until half past two. She would have slept longer, but his roommate had returned at about noon (after spending the night somewhere else, no less) and had freaked out about having, as he had put it, "The strange mess on our couch!" So, she had gotten up and while eating something, had talked about it with Charlie again. She agreed that to go home was best and so she did. 

 With trembling hands, she placed her key in the lock and turned it until she heard the faint click. Pushing open the door, she stepped inside and cautiously looked around. She was met with no one however and this kind of confused her. "Hello?" she called once, and then met with no response, louder a second time.

It was then that a reply came from the livingroom. Jessamyn closed the door and threw her purse and keys on the hall table before going in there. Her parents were sitting together on one of the couches, wrapped up in a little cocoon of affection. She was grateful, however, to find them both clothed, with relatively good distance between them, despite their apparent obsession with each other.  

Rose smiled when she came in, but she didn't move. "Hello darling," she said. 

She looked happier then Jessamyn had ever seen and so she gave her mother a strange look. Then she glanced at Jack- her father. He grinned at her, but she just stared at him. He stared back, his smile fading, until she finally broke the little game by looking away. This was just too weird. "I'm going to go lie down," she mumbled and started toward her room.

"Wait!" Rose called, finally moving away from Jack and sitting up completely.

Jessamyn stopped and turned around, but she didn't say anything. 

"We want to talk to you," Rose said pointedly. 

Inside, Jessamyn's heart began to beat wildly. This is it. They were going to tell her it was all a lie and that something else totally different had happened. Oh, what a fool she had been to believe her mother! There was no way they could have been on the Titanic. 

Rose looked at Jack for reassurance and he squeezed her hand in his own. She felt very heavily the weight of the ring press against her skin and she couldn't help but smile a little bit. _But no Rose_, she immediately told herself, _focus. _She took a deep breath and looked her daughter straight in the eye. 

"Jess," she began shakily, "I know you must be really confused."

"You think?" Jessamyn squeaked. She hadn't meant to be rude, but she had spoken faster then her brain could think.

Rose was a little hurt, but she didn't let it get her down. Instead, she just continued with what she was going to say. "We're both still a little in shock," she said, gesturing to Jack and herself. Oh, she groaned, this wasn't helping. Jessamyn had a look on her face that said 'so what?"  Rose sighed again and closed her eyes. _Just a little help_, she prayed. Why was this so hard?

"Jessamyn, everything your mother told you about us is true," Jack broke in, coming to Rose's rescue. "We were on the Titanic, she was engaged…everything happened." 

Jessamyn gave him a look like she still didn't believe him and folded her arms across her chest. She still hadn't sat down; it made her feel too vulnerable. She felt stronger standing. She listened as Jack told her the rest of the story, starting with when they had been on the board. He explained how he had woken up under the water, how he had been rescued, but then was in a coma. Jessamyn began to loosen up a bit when she heard this. Maybe they were telling the truth after all.

"I woke up weeks later and immediately started looking for your mother Jess. But, she had changed her name and I didn't think to look for a Rose Dawson on the lists. Likewise, everyone I talked to was telling me Rose DeWitt Bukator was dead. What else was I suppose to believe? So I packed up, moved to my apartment across town…. and you know the rest."

This struck a nerve in Jessamyn and she sat down in the nearby chair in a daze. They hadn't lied to her? "But Mom never-" 

Rose started smiling sadly. "I would have Jess, but I watched him slip underneath the water. I assumed he was dead…what else could I think?"

Jessamyn couldn't think of anything else to say expect, "Don't assume; it makes an ass out of you and me."

Both Rose and Jack started laughing, much to Jessamyn's shock. She looked up at them and couldn't help but smile a little bit. These were her parents. Slowly, she got up and walked over to them. "I thought you had lied to me," she confessed. 

Rose moved aside, making a spot for Jessamyn to sit down. Her daughter did so and then Rose wrapped her arm around her shoulder. "We'd never lie to you," she promised, kissing the top of her head.

Jessamyn smiled at her mother and then turned her head toward Jack, who was grinning at her. "I can't believe you're my father," she said point-blank. She meant it too. They had spent days together on a train and never knew. It was weird, but kind of amazing.  

He started laughing again and shook his head. "Me neither kid," he said happily. 

And that's when it got awkward. While Jessamyn sat there wondering what to do next, Rose looked over her head and secretively wiggled her left had at Jack. He got the message and gave her a look that said, 'I don't care.' She cleared her throat, which got Jessamyn's attention.

"What?" she asked, looking at her mother again.

Rose broke into a big smile. "Your father and I are…going to get married," she said excitedly, unable to dim her enthusiasm. 

Jessamyn did the opposite of what her parents expected her to; she started laughing. "Well it's about time! I couldn't be a bastard for the rest of my life."

Rose's eyebrows shot up. She didn't know weather to giggle or slap her daughter across the face. But from the other side of Jessamyn came a loud, welcoming laughter and Rose couldn't help but smile again. 

Calming down, Jessamyn sighed happily and then jumped back up from her place on the couch. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I've promised I'd call Charlie when I found out what happened." With that, she skipped away, humming to herself.

Jack turned to Rose with raised eyebrows. "Are she and Charlie…?" he trailed off. He'd seen them down at the pier, but he'd thought that had just been a sort of friend-dinner thing.  

Rose nodded, scooting closer to Jack once again, moving into his arms. "Yes, I guess," she said shrugging. She hadn't heard much of the famous Mr. Beaumont for a week or so, but now it looked as if Jessamyn's mind was back to where it had been. "That went well," she commented, changing the subject.  

"Yeah," Jack said faintly before kissing the top of her head. "Its good to have you back Rosie." 

Rose smiled softly, closing her eyes. "You too," she whispered, kissing his arm. 


	18. Chapter Seventeen: I Got My Baby

Another update! Yey. I love summer. LOL. I know it's a little bit of fluff, but it makes sense next chapter, I promise!  Anyway, fanfiction.net is being screwy again and isn't letting me italicize most of what needs to be. So…. just ignore that for right now lol. I'll try to fix it when I have more energy or something. Enjoy everyone! Chapter Seventeen 

A week passed by and slowly things fell into a sort of routine. Jack moved all of his things from his apartment and into Rose's house and together they began to really make a home. Jessamyn began to get used to having him around and visa versa. It was odd at first, having a man around. But she was surprised as how well she got along with him and how easy it became to accept him as her father. She began to call him 'Dad' towards the end of the week, a title that surprised and humbled Jack. He wasn't still wasn't used to it and sometimes she would have to call him it a few times before he would respond. Rose found all of this quite comical and couldn't help but start laughing every time Jack was called that because of the bright smile he had on his face.

Now Jessamyn sat at her desk with a piece of paper laid out in front of her and a pen in her hands. It was early, but that was because she was determined to get this letter done and in the mail today. She had a good idea of what she wanted to say, only she couldn't think of how to start it. How did one begin a letter to your adoptive parents? 

She chewed on the end of the pen and tried to think as she looked out the window. The ocean rolled as it always did and the faint sound of the waves crashing on shore could be heard. Sighing, Jessamyn took the pen out of her mouth and looked back down at the paper. 

_"Dear Elizabeth and James-"_ she scribbled down, and then stopped? Was that too generic? She felt really guilty and horribly for not addressing them as Mom and Dad, but she knew in her heart of hearts that they would understand. Rose and Jack were her parents. She shrugged, took a deep breath and continued on. _"I regret that I have not written you sooner, but I have been busy. Many things have happened to me since I arrived in Santa Monica…"_ The letter went on to explain how and when she had found Rose, and then the surprise of finding her father as well. She also wrote that there had been a great tragedy and ironic series of events surrounding her parents, but did not elaborate on what these were. She's already told Charlie about the _Titanic _when she wasn't suppose to, there was no reason to tell anyone else. That part of the letter came relatively easy, but then she was stuck. She wanted to tell them she was staying, but there was no easy way to do that.

 "I know you have been wondering whether or not I will be coming back to Maine or not. And honestly, I can't say that I will. I miss Rockland, but I like it here in California, and I am having a wonderful time getting to know Jack and Rose. So I'm planning on enrolling in college down here in the fall and staying through school. Who knows, maybe I'll be back after that.

There is one thing I want to say though. I want to thank you for everything you have done for me. You loved me enough to take care of me all those years, even though I am not your biological daughter. You had a heart big enough to adopt a child you had never even seen. You gave me life. And without you I don't know if I would be where I am today. I love you as much as any child loves their parents. You've been a wonderful example of love to me. Thank you. 

Don't be shy to write. I'd like to know what's going on up there. Tell everyone hello for me and tell them I miss them a lot. I miss you two as well. 

Much love,

Jessamyn

P.S. If any of my stuff is still lying around, can you send it my way? I'll reimburse you for any charges. 

Jessamyn breathed a sigh of relief and threw her pen down on the desk. She had finally done it! Happily, she reached over and pulled open one of the desk drawers. It took her a minute, but she eventually found an envelope and stuck the letter in there. Then she licked the edge and folded it down. Lastly, with careful penmanship, she addressed it to James and Elizabeth Calvert in Rockland, Maine.

Standing up and stretching, Jessamyn looked with pride at the little white envelope. She felt like a great burden had finally been lifted from her chest. Now she could relax, finally! The dreaded letter was finished. But now she was worried about the reply. She hoped they would take it well enough, without any retribution thrown her way. 

She sighed, tightened her bathrobe tie, and then grabbed the letter. She was going to put it in the mailbox before she forgot and had to wait until Monday to send it. Then maybe she would make her parents breakfast. 

Jessamyn had just opened the door to her room when she saw Jack pass by. It was only seven, she didn't expect to see him or Rose until later because they usually slept in these days. Rose had conveniently changed her hours back until nine in the morning and then hired Jack to help in the store until he found a more permanent job. Jessamyn stopped by once in a while when they were at work, but she preferred not to. Getting out of the house was an escape from all the kissing and the lovey-talk, she didn't need to see or hear it outside of the house as well. She was pretty sure that they would keel-over from withdrawal if they had to be apart for more then an hour. 

So when Rose didn't fallow Jack down the hall, Jessamyn was surprised. Instead, she followed her father into the kitchen and snuck up behind him. When she tapped his shoulder, he jumped and spun around.

"Geez Jess, you're going to give me a heart attack!" he exclaimed in a whisper, putting his heart over his chest. 

Jessamyn smiled at him. "Sorry," she whispered back. "What are you doing up so early?"

Jack grabbed his key off the counter, threw it up in the air, and then caught it. "I'm going to down to the train station to see when my stuff from New York is going to be here," he said. He had arranged for his old landlady to box it up and ship it to California. He had no desire to go back to New York, but there was some stuff he as desperate for. The old woman had agreed, but he'd had to pay her a pretty good sum. The way Jack looked at it though, it was no more then a train ticket. "Why are you up so early?"

Jessamyn held up the envelope. "Letter to Maine," she explained. "I thought I'd get it done first thing this morning."

"Ohh," Jack mused. He'd been told by Rose to avoid the subject of the Calvert's unless Jessamyn brought it up. When she didn't say anything else, he shrugged inwardly and gave her a soft smile.

"Where's Mom?" she asked him, chancing the subject. 

Jack yawned. "She's still asleep," he remarked, whishing he could do the same. But if he didn't get down to the station early, there were going to be long lines and lots of people. "I've got to run Jess. I'll be back in about forty-five minutes." 

Jessamyn watched him go and called goodbye softy. She was still holding the letter, but waited about five minutes before going outside and putting it in the mailbox. She really was nervous about becoming too clingy for Jack's taste. If she followed him out there, he might be a little annoyed. Then again, she mused as she closed the door the mailbox, if he didn't consider Rose clingy, he wouldn't consider anyone clingy. Jessamyn smiled to herself and remembered to grab the paper off the lawn as she walked back to the house. 

When she came back inside, she was surprised to see Rose sitting at the table. Her mother was rubbing sleep out of her eyes and yawing. 

"Morning," she said groggily.

Jessamyn returned the greeting and handed her the paper. "Dad just left," she told her. 

Rose nodded. "I know," she replied. She had woken up when he had slipped out of bed. She'd gotten very used to his presence next to her every night and there when she woke up, so when he left and didn't come back, she hadn't been able to sleep. It was not a good habit to be forming, but she couldn't help it. 

Jessamyn gave her a tiny smile and then stared looked through all the cabinets. She was really hungry, but didn't feel like making anything anymore. Nothing looked good, so she just put some coffee on and sat down at the table next to Rose. Her mother was reading the paper and every so often, she would sigh happily to herself. Jessamyn just watched her for a while, got her coffee, and then sat back down. She didn't quite know what to do with herself now. Charlie was in a meeting all day today and she didn't really feel like seeing any of her other friend's. 

"When are you and Dad going to get married," she finally asked before taking a sip of coffee.

Rose put the paper down and looked at her. "Soon, I should hope," was her vague answer. They had already gotten the marriage license a couple of days ago, but that was as far as they'd gotten. She smiled and then the paper was back up again. 

"Are you going to get married in a church? Or just a civil ceremony?" 

Again, Rose lowered the paper. "I don't know," she answered. "Most likely a civil ceremony, I don't know who we'd invite to a church wedding." 

Jessamyn nodded in agreement and then got up from the table. Rose watched her go into the living room with raised eyebrows. She could see so much of herself in her daughter; that need to ask questions and seek answers. And then that fire in her eyes that Jack claimed Rose had. It was kind of weird. She still wasn't totally used to having her around. She shrugged and stared reading the paper again. But now her mind stared to wonder about this wedding business. She and Jack really hadn't talked about it much, other then they wanted to have it as soon as possible. It had only been a week, but even so, Rose was starting to feel the need to get it done. She wanted to legally be Rose Dawson. She sighed heavily and put the paper down once again. To bad Jack wasn't home. 

Getting up, Rose crossed the kitchen and grabbed herself a cup of Jessamyn's coffee. It was too early. She was used to sleeping in until closer to eight, not ten to seven. Oh well, she thought. I'll just go take a hot bath. Rose yelled to Jessamyn where she would be, grabbed her Good Housekeeping magazine, her coffee, and then shut herself in the bathroom. 

Jack arrived home about a half hour later, angry because his things were not going to arrive for another week. Jessamyn smiled at him as he came stomping in and demanded to know where Rose was.

"Bathroom," she answered her father. 

She watched as he stalked off, knocked once, and then pushed the door right open. She would have started laughing, if the thought of her mother naked and her father walking in didn't make her so nauseous. So she just rolled her eyes and picked up a book. Time to focus her mind on other things. 

Rose was shocked to see Jack barge in and she turned her head toward him with wide eyes, lowering her magazine and throwing it on the floor. 

"Do you mind?" she asked teasingly, sinking under the bubbles that had built up from all the bubble mix she had poured in there.

He sat down on the toilet and looked at her with stormy eyes. "My damn boxes aren't going to be here for another week," he grumbled. 

"What do you need them so badly for?" Rose asked, sitting up and resting her arms and chin on the edge of the bath. Suds stared dripping over the side, so she reached over and grabbed a towel off the floor, placing it where they were falling. 

Jack sighed. "There is just a lot of stuff I've been wanting. My pillow, for one, I've wanted it for months, a couple of sketchbooks, some clothes… a really nice suit. You know, if was going to take you out to dinner if they were here today, with my suit and everything." 

Rose looked him over. "What's wrong with the clothes you have on?" she asked after a minute. 

"Aww...c'mon Rose. You don't wear these type of things to dinner." He gave her a soft smile. It was true; he was wearing a pair of jeans and a baggy shirt. They were fine for doing work around the house or running downtown for a minute. But one didn't wear them to take his fiancé out. And the rest of his clothes weren't much better.

"Then go buy yourself a nice pair of trousers and a nice button down shirt," Rose suggested. Really, what was this obsession with clothes all of the sudden?

Jack gave her a look like she was crazy. "I hate shopping," he said flatly. 

"Take Jessamyn with you," she replied. She had taken her daughter shopping a few times, that girl could find a bargain better then anyone. And she had great taste. Rose smiled; she must have inherited it from her mother, she mused comically. "Ohh, I know," she said suddenly. "Take her out to breakfast and then have her show you where to find such things. She'd probably love that."

Jack had to agree that sounded like a good plan, but his mind was already jumping to something else he had just thought of. With Jessamyn's help, he might just be able to pull off what he was thinking about doing. It would take careful and precise planning, though. 

"You know what," he said, suddenly getting very excited. "That might just work." He got up from his seat and crossed over to Rose. "I'm going to go. And you know what, tonight I'm taking you out for dinner. Just you and I."

Rose smiled at him. "All right," she said sweetly. 

Jack grinned back and leaned down to give her a quick kiss. "See ya," he replied before leaving.

Rose watched him go and sighed happily as she sank back down underneath the bubbles. Life was shaping up to be pretty good, she decided, opening her magazine back up again. And it only took thirty-six years to get that way. 

********

Jessamyn looked nervously at the clock and then pounded on her mother's bedroom door. "Are you finished yet?" she called. At this rate, Rose wouldn't be ready by the time Jack showed up. She had managed to make up excuses for his absence all day, but if she had to make one more Rose would start to catch on. And then her father's little plan wouldn't work. Jessamyn sighed and pounded on the door again. "Mom!"

"All right, all right!" Rose finally replied. She opened the door and presented herself to Jessamyn, who smiled at her mother.

"You look nice," she commented. 

Rose smiled and then went back into her room. Jessamyn took the liberty of following her and sat down on the bed, watching as her mother selected some earrings and put them in. 

"You need a necklace," she reminded Rose, who's face lit up and she mumbled a quick 'that's right' under her breath. 

Rose searched through her jewelry box and finally found the one she was looking for. Delicately, she pulled out the silver cross on the tiny chain and fastened it around her neck. 

"What do you think?" she asked turning toward Jessamyn, who nodded approvingly.

"Perfume," was the only thing she suggested. 

Rose nodded in agreement and picked up a bottle, splashing some on her wrists, behind her ears and then just a tad across her bust line. Jessamyn rolled her eyes and flopped back on the bed so that she was lying down. Honestly, those two were going to drive her mad. 

"Where is your father?" Rose asked suddenly, sounding very annoyed. "He called and told me to be ready at a quarter to seven."

Jessamyn groaned; this was what she was afraid of. She sat up again and sighed.  "He'll be here," she mumbled vaguely and then got up from the bed. 

"What kind of errands could be taking him so long?" Rose continued. 

The special, secret type, Jessamyn thought, crossing the room to where her mother was. If she and Jack were going to pull this off, she needed to distract her mother from the fact that he wasn't here. "Maybe he's getting you flowers or something," Jessamyn suggested.

Rose smiled. "You think so?" she wondered hopefully, her voice suddenly calm and sweet again. 

A crap, that was dumb, Jessamyn immediately mentally kicked herself. Now Rose would be expecting flowers. She sighed and was about to make something else when the doorbell rang. "Oh, thank God," she whispered to herself. That would be her father. 

Rose's brow furrowed and she started out of her bedroom. "Who on earth could that be?" she wondered out loud. Jessamyn grabbed a few things that Rose had forgotten and then followed her, excited to watch her reaction. 

Jack was outside, hands in his pockets, waiting for Rose to open the door. He hoped that Jessamyn hadn't let anything on and that she had gotten Rose ready. They were on sort of a schedule here. If they weren't at the restaurant by seven-fifteen, then they wouldn't be other places when they needed to be there. He looked down at himself, brushing off a stray fluff. The suit Jessamyn had helped him pick out was hardly a suit, more like really nice pants and a really nice shirt with a sports jacket. It was clever, and at least he didn't feel like a penguin. 

Before he could position himself again, the door opened and he jerked his head up. Seeing Rose, his breath was immediately sucked out of his lungs.  She looked stunning in her dress, a white with a soft, almost French blue, patterned little number that fell just below her knees. The neckline, too, was scoop cut and fell quite low, with lace trimming it and also the sleeves. She topped it up with her hair pulled half back, light blue high heal shoes, and the right amount of jewelry. She broke into a smile when she realized it was Jack at the door. This brought him back reality.

"Good evening madam," he said, faking a British accent. 

Rose started laughing. "Good evening, darling," she seductively said back. All of her angry and frustration of his absence was washed away immediately as he stared at him. In short, he looked fantastic. 

"Would a beautiful young woman such as yourself care to accompany me to dinner?"  he asked, still putting on airs. 

"Certainly," Rose replied, enjoying his little game. "Just let me get my purse." She turned around and was about to go back inside to retrieve it, but was met with Jessamyn, who was holding the small white handbag. 

"Have a good time," her daughter remarked, smiling as she handed her the purse.

Rose smiled back. "Thank you," she whispered, kissing her daughter on the check. "See you later." And with that, she turned and went back to Jack.

He held out his arm to her and she took it. It reminded her very much of the time he had led her to the dinner they had shared on the Titanic as he guided her to the street corner and to where a cab was waiting. He held the door open for her and Rose climbed in, giving a sly and secretive glance as she did so. They both were thinking of the other time he had held a door open for her. And once he was seated and the cab driver asked "Where too?" Rose couldn't help but start laughing. 

Jack too was smiling as he gave the man directions, put the screen up, and then settled in next to Rose, draping his arm around her shoulders. 

"Where are we going?" she asked him, her face lighting up. 

"Just wait and see," Jack whispered to her, leaning his head close to hers. Gently, he took her left hand and twisted the ring around and around on her finger. "It looks like it was made to be here," he commented, somewhat trying to distract her from looking out the window, but mostly just being completely honest. 

Rose leaned her head against his. "Hmm…maybe," she said languidly, watching him twist it around. She still got butterflies in her stomach when she looked at it. It was so beautiful; the perfect engagement ring.  

Jack brought her hand up to his lips and kissed it softly. "It's nice to have you alone…" he whispered.

"We're not alone," Rose replied, smiling as she gestured toward the driver with a nod of her head. 

"He doesn't count," Jack said before kissing her on the lips this time.  

Rose started laughing again as she pulled away. "Oh doesn't he?"

Jack shook his head. "I mean, like, Jessamyn or people in the shop…they're around. This guy doesn't even know our names." He paused and looked at her a minute. "Which means I can do this without reserves," he whispered pressing his lips to hers once again. This time the kiss lasted longer and once it eventually ended, Rose sighed. 

"I hate it when you do that," she groaned, pressing her forehead against his.

Jack broke out into a grin. "Why?" he asked. 

"How do you expect me to go into this restaurant looking normal?" she asked. "You've got me all…ya know…now."

Jack started laughing warmly and kissed her on the cheek. "Good to know I still got it…" he mused, rubbing his chin. 

Rose shook her head and pulled a respectable distance away, but so she was still in his arms. "Someday that ego of yours," she commented, rolling her eyes. 

"My ego!" Jack protested, throwing his hands up. "Don't presume to tell me what I will and will not do, you don't know me!" he said sardonically, his voice freakishly accurate to hers. Although, he did manage to make it just a tad more dramatic and wild then the actual phrase had been. 

Again, Rose started shaking her head. "You're going to pay for that," she teased, hitting him gently across the knee. But she smiled at him. They both knew he wouldn't. 

Before long, the cab stopped and the driver tapped on the screen. Jack pulled it down, paid the man, and then jumped out before running around to open the door for Rose. She stepped out elegantly and her eyes widened as she saw where they were. It was La Mer, a very exquisite, intimate, not to mention quite expensive, little French restaurant resting close to the shore, which is how it got its name. 

"Oh Jack," she breathed as he came up behind her and laid a soft hand on the small of her Jack. "Oh, darling, I don't know. It's so expensive," she protested weakly. She so badly wanted to go, but something like this would sharply cut a hole in her budget. 

Jack came around to face her and placed a finger delicately over her lips. "None of that," he whispered. "I'm taking you out to dinner and this is where I know you want to go." He knew it was expensive, but Jessamyn had told him that whenever Rose walked by this place she would look at it wistfully and sigh. Besides, he had some money saved up from New York. He'd just take some funds out of there. 

She smiled at him, her eyes filling with happy tears. "How'd you know I wanted to come here?" she asked softy as he started leading her up the front walk.

"A little bird, named Jessamyn, told me," he replied as he held the door open once again and entered after her. 

They were led to a small intimate and private table towards the back of the restaurant, with a lovely view of the ocean below. Once they were situated, the waiter introduced himself, handed them their menus, and then promised to return in a few minutes before walking off.  

Rose opened up the menu and gushed over the selections. "Ohh, everything looks so good," she sighed. There were pages of things she remembered eating and loving as a teenager and it was hard to just pick one. When Jack didn't reply, she lowered her menu and watched as his brow furrowed in frustration.

"I hate French," he finally concluded, throwing the menu down. What words he had learned in Paris had since been forgotten and even if he did remember them, they wouldn't help him now. He used to be able to say things like 'Do you have any jobs?' or 'Where is the bathroom.' He could not read names of food if his life depended on it. 

Rose started laughing. "Do you want me to help you?" she asked, unable to resist teasing him once again.

Jack shrugged. "What are you having?"

She glanced at the menu one more time, made a quick choice, and then told him.  

"Ehhh…I'll have the same," he answered, not really knowing what he was saying the same too. "You better order for us," he mumbled under his breath as the waiter approached, holding a little booklet. 

Rose nodded in agreement. When the waiter asked them what they would like, she told him in French and he smiled at her as he wrote it down. But when he asked what they would like to drink, Jack broke in and just said, "Bring us your best drinks." He desperately wanted a bottle of wine, but prohibition was still in effect. Ahh, well, enough of that to look forward to later tonight. The man's eyebrows shot up at Jack's request, but he did not protest, just took their menus and said something about the food being there shortly. 

As the waiter once again left, Rose shot Jack a look. "You're crazy," she told him. "Do you know how much they might charge you for something like that?" 

Jack didn't answer her, just grabbed her hand across the table and held it softly. "You look wonderful, I don't know if I told you," he said after a minute. He meant it too. The dim lighting cast soft shadows on her face. And when she smiled at him, like she was doing now, it added so much to her case. 

"You don't look so bad yourself," she replied, squeezing his hand.  She watched as he started to blush. "Can I ask you something?" she asked right away, before he could say anything else.

"Of course," he answered. 

Rose's expression went soft and she asked in a rush, "How many other women have there been?" She'd been dying to know since their first night together. Just because she was- well used to be -inexperienced didn't mean she didn't know good lovemaking when she felt it. There was something mature and sweet about it now, that hadn't been quite there when they were younger. And it had to do something with Jacks experience, right?

Her question caught him off guard and his eyebrows raised. "You really want to know?" he asked, his mouth slowly fading into a smile.

Rose groaned inwardly. She knew it! She knew he'd had lots of different women. A sort of jealously began to built up inside of her heart as she felt herself nod slowly. 

Jack was still smiling and as he placed a soft kiss on her hand. "None," he answered tenderly.

Now it was Rose who was taken off guard. "None?" she squeaked, her eyes lighting up. "Really?" Her voice was so full of emotion that it didn't even sound like her. 

He nodded. "Yeah. You were my first…you'll be my last."

Her eyes began to fill up with tears and she choked back sobs. "So…all those years?" she asked weakly.

"Never," Jack said, shaking his head.  "I couldn't. Oh God, Rose, I wanted too. I dated…went out to bars, that sort of thing. I wanted to so badly, so I could make myself forget. But every time I even got close, I couldn't go through with it. I eventually stopped trying." He looked down at the table and sighed. 

Rose gently caressed his hand with her thumb. "I'm the same way," she whispered truthfully. She didn't even care if anyone was listing or watching. All she knew was that this man was sitting her telling her something she had longed to hear. 

Jack's head shot up and his eyes widened. "Really?" he asked.

"Don't look so surprised about it," Rose warned seeing his reaction.

This brought a smile to his face, but he couldn't say anything more. He looked at her in awe. They had both been willing to wait for the rest of their days because of what one night had meant to both of them. It was a level of love not experienced by many. He rose up a little bit and leaned across the table to really kiss her quickly. 

"Why did you want to know?" Jack asked when he they had both regained most of their composure. 

Rose blushed to the point that her face was almost the same color of her hair. "It's not important," she answered, looking down.

They talked for a little bit longer until their food and drinks came, upon which conversation pretty much ceased. Jack had to admit that Rose had pretty good taste in French cuisine when it turned out to be one of the best meals he'd ever had. He quickly ate it all up and then watched as Rose plowed through hers much slower. If there was anything Jack had learned in the past week was that she took forever to eat her food. It had to be something with the way she was brought up, but even so. It took her a half hour to finish a bowl of soup! Then again, Jack though as he watched her, he had spent years trying to eat his food before whomever he had stolen it from caught him. 

When she finally finished, she looked up at him and smiled. "Shall we get dessert?" she asked.

Jack shrugged and topped off her water glass, which was looking a little dry. "If you want we can," he answered after looking at his watch. He really wasn't that hungry, but then again, he always had room for a piece of cheesecake or something.

Rose sighed before taking a sip of her drink. "I probably shouldn't," she groaned. 

He smiled at her. "Yeah, you should. What do you want?" This would waste a little more time since they had about an hour before they had to be at their next stop. 

"Ice cream," Rose replied immediately, without even looking at the dessert menu. She heard from some acquaintances that the homemade ice cream here was to die for. 

Jack started laughing. "Ice cream it is!" he exclaimed. He decided on the strawberry cheesecake himself and waved the waiter over. After clearing their dishes, he wrote down their requests and then scampered away once again. 

Rose yawned and leaned her head on one of her hands, resting her elbow on the table. "What are we going to do about this wedding?" she asked Jack.

He almost chocked on his drink that he had just taken a sip of. If only she knew….

"Um, I dunno," he said slowly, trying to remain innocent looking. His heart began to beat as he watched her face for some sort of reaction. She gave him a soft smile and tilted her head some more. But before she could say another word, the waiter appeared with their desserts. 

Once he left, Rose dug into hers. "This is so good," she gushed, with a big bite in her mouth no less. She swallowed and then gave Jack a grin. 

Oh sure, she finishes the good stuff fast, he thought, smiling as he watched her. In fact, both desserts went rather quickly and then all they were left with was a rather large check. Jack left Rose to go pay and get some change for a tip. She watched him walk away with suspicious eyes. 

She knew he was up to something. He couldn't hide his jumpiness from her. But she couldn't imagine what. The dinner alone had been surprise enough. She sighed and turned her head to look outside. Night had just about fallen and a beautiful sunset was just ending over the water. Hardly anyone was outside anymore; the beach was quite barren looking. She was so immersed in the scene that she didn't even notice Jack come back until she felt his hand on her shoulder. 

"Are you ready to go?" he asked, trying to hide his nervousness. His stomach suddenly seemed filled to the top with butterflies. This night had gone well so far, but now there were two different ways it could go. 

Rose smiled at him as she stood and grabbed her purse off of the table. "Yes," she said softly, linking her arm through his.

Jack led her out of the restaurant and onto the front steps. "How about a walk?" he suggested, trying to make it sound like he had just come up with the plan.  She turned her head and gave him another of her winning smiles.

"Sounds nice," she commented, resting her body close to his. 

Jack grinned to himself as he directed her toward the sidewalk and they began their "impromptu" little walk. He was a nervous wreck, but he tried to hide it so that Rose might not see notice his demeanor. He wanted so badly to keep the next part of their evening secret. It was going perfectly to plan so far however. They were making good time and all that. He only hoped she liked what he was about to offer her.  

**Let me know…review!!!**


	19. Chapter Eighteen: In Your Eyes

**_Second to last chapter. All that's left is the epilogue. :( Kind of sad. Anyway, I'll have a really long author's note next chapter, so this will be short. Enjoy. _** **Chapter Eighteen**

Rose couldn't help but giggle as Jack placed his hand on the small of her back. As of that moment, she had no idea where she was. A few blocks back Jack had told her to close her eyes and, just to be sure, covered them with one of his own hands. She had allowed him to lead her somewhere, but now they had stopped.

"Mind your step," he cautioned, letting her know they were going up.

It seemed as if they climbed forever and when they actually did reach the top, she tried to open her eyes. But Jack must have felt her eyelashes flutter because he sighed.

"Rose, I told you not to open your eyes," was his frustrating command.

"Ohh…Jack…please tell me where we are," she pleaded as she felt herself being moved once again, then pause, and then move again. She guessed they must have gone indoors because the air was suddenly much colder and the sound of her heels clicking on the floor sounded different. He didn't answer her for about a minute, but then they stopped again.

"All right," he whispered in her ear, "open your eyes."

Rose excitedly opened them and, after blinking a few times, looked around. Massive white-marble columns stood in front of her, a wood floor beneath, and a high painted ceiling above. She spun in a circle for a minute, taking in everything, and then turned back to Jack. She had never been here before.

"What is this place?" she asked. 

Jack smiled at her and brushed some stray hair from his eyes. He was suddenly very shy and was almost embarrassed to tell her. "The courthouse," he stammered quickly. Rose gave him an odd look. She wasn't registering what he meant. "The courthouse?" she repeated slowly. Why on earth would he bring her here? 

Jack was slightly shocked that she didn't understand what he was trying to get across to her, but he didn't dwell on it. "Uh, yeah…ya know….where they do weddings…and stuff." He felt like a goddamn teenager again, fumbling over words. _Maybe this was a stupid idea_, he thought, looking down at the floor. But when Rose didn't say anything for a minute, he looked up again, concerned. 

Tears had filled her eyes and a hand had risen to over her trembling lips. _Oh Jesus, she knew_, he thought, fearing the worst. But she soon lowered that hand and a smile graced her face. 

"We're getting married?" she asked, her voice breathless. 

"Well, ya know, if you want too," Jack said, trying to play it cool. He grinned and ran his hand through his hair, managing to undo what he had just placed in its somewhat proper spot. 

Rose gave a little shriek and threw herself in his arms, almost knocking him to the floor. "Oh Jack! Of course I do. You just threw me for a loop, is all." 

He started laughing and wrapped his arms around her slender waist. "You're really okay with this?" he asked, leaning his forehead against hers. "Because we can do it later if you want."

She shook her head. "No," she whispered. "This is perfect. I didn't want a big fancy wedding."

Jack kissed the top of her head and then pulled away. He was surprised to see Jessamyn suddenly standing behind her mother. She was carrying a bunch of flowers in one hand and the other was hidden behind her back. Slowly, he turned Rose around and saw her gasp in surprise at seeing her daughter.

"You're here!" she exclaimed. She was relieved to see her. They could not have a wedding without her there. 

Jessamyn started laughing as she nodded. "Yeah, you couldn't keep me away. Besides, I was part of this whole little plan, there was no way I couldn't have known." She stepped forward and handed Rose a small, but elegant, bouquet of dark red roses tied together with a white ribbon. Rose took it gingerly and brought it up to her nose to smell it as Jessamyn pulled from behind her back a white hat with a veil attached the front of it. After fasting it to her mother's head, she stepped back and admired her, finally concluding she needed one last thing. She slipped a simply silver bracelet off of her own wrist and onto Rose's.

"Something old," Jessamyn said gesturing to the dress, "something new," the hat, "something borrowed," the bracelet "something blue," and finally to the blue pattern on the dress. "You're set."

Rose's eyes were brimming over with tears and she quickly wiped them away with the back of her hand. She turned and hugged Jack once again, whispering a soft thank you into his ear. Jack kissed the side of her head and then turned his attention to Jessamyn again. 

"Everything ready?" he asked his daughter.

Jessamyn nodded, clasping her hands together behind her back. "Yep, they're all waiting." She gestured with her head toward a pair of double doors, "Just in there."

Rose smiled at Jack and he grinned back. Jessamyn watched as they each took a deep breath and then started walking toward those doors. She smiled softly to herself and then followed a couple of steps behind them. _Here we go,_ she thought.  

The ceremony only lasted a few minutes, but Rose had never been more excited, nervous, and filled with pure joy as she had in that brief period of time. She and Jack had walked up the isle together, arm and arm, as Jessamyn and a few of their good acquaintances stood in the back of the tiny room watching. Rose would not have had it any other way. They said their vows and then Jack had surprised her again by out a pair of rings. As he slipped the white gold band onto her finger, she almost fainted from a feeling that came over her. She was legally Rose Dawson now. After all these years of pretending, she was actually Mrs. Dawson. With trembling hands she had slipped the matching band onto Jack's own shaking hand and before the judge could tell them too, he pulled her into a long kiss. Jessamyn had held her breath when this happened, worried that the judge might get offended. But he just started laughing and said the usual, "I now pronounce you man and wife." 

There was no reception, no wedding cake, and no first dance. But neither Jack nor Rose minded too much. They stood outside on the courthouse steps laughing with their friends and Jessamyn. And then about ten minutes later their friends departed and they were left alone with their daughter, who just stood there smiling. 

"So I'm actually Jessamyn Dawson now," she commented, rolling her eyes.

Rose started laughing and smiled up at Jack. "Yes darling, I suppose you are." His arm was around her waist and she felt him pull her closer, but he didn't smile back or say anything. 

Jessamyn was about to return with another witty comment but she heard shouting behind her. She turned and was surprised to see Charlie running up the steps.

"Hey," he said, panting from behind out of breath. 

"Hi," Jessamyn responded. "What…what are you doing here?" She was happy to see him, but even more confused to how he knew she was actually here.

Charlie grinned with that little smile of his. "I saw the wedding list for today when I was here picking up some things on my lunch break. I thought it was actually later then it was, or else I would have been here."

Rose and Jack had come up and stood behind Jessamyn. "That's very sweet of you Charlie," Rose commented, smiling at him. 

He shrugged his shoulders and blushed. "Ahh well…."

Jack let go of his new bride and went over to Charlie. "That would have meant a lot," he commented, shaking his hand. Charlie beamed and then stepped back as Jack took a few steps over to where Jessamyn was.

"Thank you," he whispered, hugging her tight. 

Jessamyn hugged her father back and mumbled a chocked, "You're welcome." When they pulled away, she handed him something that neither Rose nor Charlie saw. He kissed Jessamyn once on the cheek and then went back to Rose, putting something in his pocket as he did so. 

"Now, if you'll excuse us…we have someplace to be," Jack announced, putting his arm back around her waist.

Rose looked up at him with wide eyes. Another surprise? What on earth did this man have up his sleeve? But he just lifted his eyebrows and then looked back at Jessamyn and Charlie. 

"Goodnight you two," he said, Rose echoing the words. 

Jessamyn watched as they walked off into the night, their body's dangerously close and soft words being spoken. After a minute, she felt Charlie's hand on her back.

"What are you up too?" he asked softly.

She spun around and shrugged. "I have the whole house to myself," she said grinning. 

"Really?" Charlie asked, raising one eyebrow. He wrapped his arms around Jessamyn's waist and pulled her close. "You going to invite me over?"

Jessamyn pretend to be shocked as her hand flew to her heart. "Charles Beaumont! I shouldn't think you would suggest such things! You, a good little southern boy." She gave him a sly smile. 

"I'm also a cowboy," he whispered in a western drawl. 

Jessamyn began to laugh but was soon silenced by a pair of lips delicately being placed on hers. Once they were joined though, Charlie began to kiss her harder. She wasn't stupid; she knew those kisses had a definite wicked intent. But she didn't care. She hadn't been kissed like that before and soon felt herself melting in his arms.  

"Charlie…I can't…" she whispered breathlessly. She couldn't do the same thing her mother had, having been the end result. She wanted to! But no, there were to many things that could happen. 

He nodded, understanding what she meant. "I know. But we don't have to do anything…we can just talk. I miss you." For effect, he tucked a stray lock of hair behind her ear. 

Jessamyn smiled at him. "All right," she said cautiously. "But just for a while."

***************

Rose sat alone on a huge bed, unsure of what to do next. Jack had brought her to a hotel and they had snuck upstairs to where their room was waiting. He had arranged for Jessamyn check in earlier under the name of her mother and Jess had prepared the room, leaving a Rose's last bottle of saved wine cooling in a bucket and a couple of bags with their overnight things. 

The room was simple, but beautifully decorated in dark reds, complementing cherry wood furniture. It had a soft queen size bed, a tiny chest of drawers, a bathroom, a little nightstand, and a window that showed you a beautiful view of the coast. 

Rose smiled to herself as she lay back on the pillows. All the way here she and Jack had hardly been able to keep their hands away from each other as they whispered clandestine words in each other's ears and giggled at what the other was saying. And then in the elevator, Jack had kissed her with such fanatic passion that Rose feared her knees would buckle underneath her. But as soon as they had gotten up here, he had disappeared into the bathroom. 

She sat up again and then climbed off of the bed, laughing as Jack's coat hung limply on her body as she stood. She had been cold as they walked and Jack, who was quite bent on seeing that she was never cold again, had wrapped the garment around her body. It smelled of him, and she lifted the sleeves to her nose, breathing in his sent. He had been gone only a few minutes, but already she missed him like crazy. 

Suddenly, she heard the door open behind her and she spun around. Jack stood in the doorway, his tie loosened and a few of his shirt buttons undone. 

Rose approached him slowly and fell into his welcome arms. 

"My coat looks pretty good on you," he commented softly, kissing her lips softly. "But I think it would look better on the floor." She let him slip it off of her and it fell into a heap below her feet.

"Jessamyn left us some wine," Rose said, trying to control her breathing and the rate of her pulse, which at the moment was beating wildly. 

"I know, I told her too," Jack answered, letting go of her and crossing the room to where it was. "And no glasses at that," he commented, looking around.

Rose started laughing as she went over to where he was. Softly, she took the bottle from his hands and with some effort pulled the cork out with a pop. Raising her eyebrows toward him, she lifted the bottle to her lips and took a giant swig. 

Jack took the bottle back and took a drink himself. "Pretty good," he commented after swallowing the liquid. It had been years since he had tasted any alcohol. He turned the bottle over in his hands. "How'd you manage to save this all these years?" he asked, looking at the date. 

Shrugging, Rose took another drink. "I never had anyone to drink it with," she answered. It was true; she hadn't wanted to waste it on just anyone so it had sat in the back of one of her cabinets until recently. This whole prohibition thing had been a joke and she prayed that sooner or later it would end. She set the bottle down on the nightstand and wrapped her arms around Jack's neck. 

"Did you lock the door?" she asked, which was a stupid thing to go because before she could answer she had moved her lips to Jack's. She felt him nod as his arms wrapped around her and he pulled her tighter against his body. He began to back her up until they both fell on the bed, never once breaking their connection with the other. 

Jack was the first to pull away and he did so in lieu that they might settle into a more comfortable position. He pushed Rose off of him and then moved, settling against the pillows. His bride moved on top of him again and within seconds her mouth was back to devouring his. She finally stopped after a few minutes and settled comfortably down on his chest. 

"I love you, Mrs. Dawson," Jack whispered, playing with strands of her hair. "I can't wait to spend the rest of my days with you. I can't wait to go back to the house, with you as my wife…. have a family with you."

Rose lifted her head and gave him a look. "Family?" she repeated. 

Jack gave her a confused glance. "Yeah…. that's what we both want…right?" He suddenly realized they hadn't even discussed more children in the least. He watched as she swallowed nervously and then closed her eyes. 

"Jack," she sighed, putting her head back down on his chest. "Oh darling…"

"What? What's wrong?" he asked sitting up a bit so he could get a better look at her. "You don't want anymore children?"

Rose didn't look at him, just mumbled into his shirt. "Of course I do."

"Then what's the problem?"

She lifted her head again and he saw tears filling her eyes. "Jack, I don't know if I can have anymore children," she whispered, her voice cracking. She closed her eyes and sighed. "The hypothermia did something to my body and ever since Jessamyn was born my monthly has been…well…. really sporadic and uneven. The doctor told me that it would be hard for me to ever get pregnant again. And on top of all that, I'm getting older." She stared to cry and put her head back down. "I lied the other night when I said I was worried about getting pregnant," she sobbed, "because I don't think I can. There is only like a thirty percent chance I'll ever have children…not get pregnant on a monthly basis…that's ever!" 

Jack held her for a few moments while she cried her tears, thinking over what she had just told him. He felt disappointed, but these things couldn't be helped now. Gently, he placed a finger under Rose's chin and drew her head up. Wiping her tears from her puffy eyes, he gave her a smile. 

"We'll just have to try," he whispered. "Until we succeed we'll work on it! We'll work on it every night if we have to!"

That last comment brought a soft smile to her face. "Jack…" she sniffled. 

"Rose, I married you for you. If we can't have any more children, it's not the end of the world. We already have one beautiful daughter. I'm just happy I have you now," he said sincerely.

"Me too," Rose whispered back, trying hard to keep her crying under control. What kind of happy bride cried like this on their wedding night? Before Jack had come back, she hadn't a reason to care that she would probably never have children again. But now, it was the thing she wanted most in the world. She wanted to raise a baby with him, like they should have done with Jessamyn. 

"Hey," Jack whispered, putting both of his hands on either side of her face, drawing her forehead toward his own. "We're alone."

Rose broke into a soft smile and she closed her eyes, sniffing a few times. "Yes Jack, this is alone," she whispered back hoarsely. This was alone. Not with some cab driver in the front seat, or their daughter around. There wasn't some valet chasing after them or someone with a gun. They weren't in any danger of being caught of anything and no one was going to break into their room if the cigars and brandy ran out. They were truly alone for the first time in their entire relationship. 

"Kiss me," Rose whispered urgently. She couldn't stand having him so close and not have his lips upon her own. 

Jack complied with her request quite nicely as he rolled them both over and leaned over her welcoming frame. Rose felt herself being debilitated as his kisses and caresses became more ardent and soon she lost all strength to protect herself against them. She was his. 

What happened next was not at all shocking, but it was amazing. Jack took her to the brink of heaven and then stayed with her as she fell back down again, over and over again. She couldn't remember what happened at all, but at the same time she couldn't forget. The entire night was blurred for both of them and when it ended Rose lay in Jack's warm arms. 

He was falling asleep, his eyelids slowly lowering. But Rose couldn't bring herself to do the same. She watched as he placidly shut his eyes and then his breathing became slower. Gently, she brushed some hair off of his face and kissed his forehead. They were so close that it didn't require much movement to do so. 

It was at this moment that Rose really began to understand the fact that he was back. It was all very real all of the sudden. The adversity that had plagued her life was beginning to become hazy. All that mattered was this man lying next to her. They had a beautiful daughter who they both now knew. And he was lying next to her. That was all. 

Rose yawned and snuggled even closer to his body. A content feeling came over her and then suddenly she was indeed tired. Closing her eyes, she savored the feeling of his arms around her body. She was back where she wanted to be, with him, back in his arms.  

***tear***

** I don't want it to end! Sigh. Ahhh…but all things must come to an end. Anyway, please let me know… review. **


	20. Epilogue: A New Day Has Come

Epilogue 

Santa Monica, California

June 1935

Jessamyn looked out across the outside auditorium, her eyes grazing over rows and rows of tightly packed chairs and hundreds of people crammed into them. She didn't find her parents in those few minutes though and had to quickly turn her attention back to the Dean who at that moment started the ceremony. She listened, somewhat impatiently, as he made his generic "I am very proud of each and every one of my students…"speech. She doubted he even knew more then five of their names, let alone what they had accomplished. 

It was graduation day and Jessamyn was among the many students receiving degrees. Hers was in journalism and already she had received offers from newspapers all around the country, including one in New Orleans, where she planned on moving too, with Charlie of course. His father had announced his retirement that spring and had offered the law firm to his son, which Charlie gladly accepted. He had asked Jessamyn to marry him just a few weeks ago and they were planning on moving to Louisiana in July. The wedding wouldn't be until October, however, so they would have some "down time" (as Charlie would call it, Jessamyn saw it more as planning time) before the ceremony. 

Unconsciously, Jessamyn twisted her ring around in a circle on her finger. She was utterly bored out of her skull and was hot from the sun, which was shining right in her eyes. Having to wear the heavy gown didn't help matters either and a small amount of sweat was beginning to glaze her temples. Sighing discreetly, her eyes once again drifted out into the audience as the Dean continued the speech.

She found her fiancée first and managed to catch his eye. He smiled and waved a little from his seat, and Jessamyn smiled back softly. It was then that she noticed that to the right of him was the rest of her family. First it was the Calvert's, who had come down from Maine the week before and were staying for just another day. It was the first time Jessamyn had seen them since she left, and it had been a bittersweet reunion. Her younger brother and sister seemed to have grown like weeds and her older brother had already eloped with his longtime girlfriend, who was here as well. They had meet Jack and Rose, and then there had been more tears. Rose couldn't get over how thankful she was that they had taken in "her little girl" and kept wanting to do things for them. Jack too expressed his gratitude and even took James out for a couple of drinks. They got along pretty well and for this Jessamyn was happy. She didn't know what she was going to do if they hated each other. 

Her eyes moved to Rose, who was sitting back in her seat, looking rather uncomfortable as she held two year old Josephine, who was squirming and trying to get away from her mother. Jack sat on the other side, looking quite the opposite of his wife, as Josephine's twin brother John lay asleep in his lap. Jessamyn looked with pride upon her younger siblings. Poor Rose had suffered through two miscarriages their first year of marriage and then it had taken her almost another year to get pregnant again. It was a miracle that she delivered not only one healthy baby, but two, and Rose often said that she believed God felt guilty for taking two babies away from her so he had given them back. 

The twins were certainly different people. Josephine had been born with Rose's wild hair, Jack's eyes, and both of their personalities put together; a lethal combination. She always wanted to be on the move; couldn't stand to just sit down and stay there. In fact, Jessamyn was the only one who could get her to behave and settle down. But John however seemed to inherit the milder side of his parents. His hair was a soft strawberry blonde and again had eyes like his fathers. He was chubbier then his sister (something Rose groaningly blamed herself for) but that didn't stop him from keeping up with her. However, he was already the person of reason from what Jessamyn could see. They were both precarious children though and shared that bond, if nothing else besides their birthday. They did love each other though; best friends already.  

Jessamyn's mind was brought back to reality when she heard her name being announced. She blinked a few times and then rose from her chair. It was she who was giving the student address that afternoon, based largely on her peer's high opinion of her and also of her speech that she had composed and sent it. With trembling hands, she crossed the stage to the podium and stood facing the audience. Charlie gave her a little thumb's up and then Josephine waved wildly. Jessamyn could see Rose's face turn white when her daughter did so. But when Josephine didn't say anything she saw her mother breath a sigh of relief. 

Taking a deep breath, Jessamyn pulled out a piece of paper from her pocket and spread it out on the podium, running her hands over the creases a few times. She was nervous, but had also done this enough to know that once she started talking, it would turn into productive adrenaline. 

"Anon said, "Is life worth living? That depends on the liver." We sit there today before you all as we prepare to graduate from college and step out into the real world. But each of our journeys depends on what we ourselves make of them…."

With triumph, Jessamyn ran through her speech like a pro, pronouncing words as they should be, pausing when she needed, and using the right things at the right time. It was a motivational speech, not meant to be sad, but she noticed some people reaching for their Kleenex's. An odd feeling came over her as she read the familiar words; they were beginning to finally sink in. The nature of one's journey did depend on what one made of it. Jessamyn had written the speech from an outside perspective, but now she saw. She had put her heart and soul into finding Rose four years ago; she had made it her own. Now she was going to start a new life, in a new city, with a fiancée. Would she have the drive to do the same things she did to find her mother? 

As she wrapped up her speech and walked back to her seat as a round of applause erupted from the audience, she thought of what she was about to do. The next part of her journey would be whatever she made it. If she failed, it was her own fault. And if she succeeded, that too was her fault.

The rest of the ceremony passed in a blurry haze. Jessamyn numbly stood up when her name was called to receive her diploma and numbly sat back down again. All she could think about was the future. There were so many possibilities just out there, waiting for her. Finally, when the final cheer was sounded and hats thrown up into the air, Jessamyn was brought back into reality. She had other things to think about now.

It took her a few minutes, but she finally found her family in the throng of people. Josephine belted from Rose when she saw her sister and threw herself around Jessamyn's leg. 

"Hi!" she yelled, starting up at Jessamyn with big eyes and a wide grin.

Jessamyn laughed and picked up Josephine with the arm that wasn't holding the diploma. "Hey you. Did you see me up there?" she asked her sister, knowing full well she had. 

Josephine didn't have time to answer because Rose had finally caught up and gave Jessamyn a big hug, taking the diploma away from her to look at. She was slightly jealous of her daughter, never having to get to attend college herself. But she was excitingly proud of her. With soft hands, she traced Jessamyn's name and then smiled at her. 

"Congratulations," Rose said, handing the diploma back to her and then taking Josephine into her own arms. "Jo, don't run off like that again," she chided softly. 

Jack came up all of the sudden, having been separated, with John in tow.  He hugged his daughter tightly with one arm, the other holding onto his son, and gave her a soft kiss on her cheek. "I'm so proud of you," he whispered happily. 

Jessamyn gave her father a soft smile. Oh how she hated to leave them again! But they had babies to take care of now, their own lives to lead. Jessamyn knew she would be busy enough, however this did not stop her from longing to stay in Santa Monica. It had become her home, a place of familiarity. It was going to be hard to leave it behind.

The Calvert's came along soon enough and then there were more congratulations, hugs, and tears to be shed. Of course, then everyone had to get pictures taken with everyone else and that seemed to take forever. It wasn't until an hour later when the two families told Jessamyn they would see her back at the house and then left, leaving her alone to find Charlie. She hadn't seen him since that morning. 

It was he who found her however, discreetly sneaking behind her and then grabbing her around the waist. "How's my favorite fiancée?" he asked before she could become frightened. 

Jessamyn grinned and turned around in his arms. "Well," she answered. "Although, I'm a bit concerned that I may not be your only fiancée anymore," she teased lightly. 

Charlie responded by kissing her lightly on the lips, pulling her tighter as he did so. "You know you're the only one," he whispered when their mouths broke apart. "Congratulations baby," he drawled. His accent was always thicker when he spoke in hushed tones, or when he shouted. 

"Thank you," Jessamyn whispered back before returning his soft kiss. "I can't believe I'm finished with school."

"Now we can get on with our lives," Charlie responded, grinning and raising his eyebrows.

"Life," Jessamyn corrected softly. Their life. Soon they would move, get married, and then start a life together. It was scary, but then, most things she had cherished most in her life had been. The thought of starting over again gave her that excited-nervous feeling that made her want to throw up and jump for joy at the same time. 

"My mistake," Charlie said seriously. And then his lips were upon hers again. Jessamyn allowed herself to melt into his arms and together they stayed for some time. It was she who finally broke away and removed herself from his embrace. 

"They're expecting us," she whispered, taking his hand and starting to lead him away. Charlie followed, caught up with her, and draped his arm around her shoulders, hugging her close to him. Jessamyn let him hold her, her mind flashing back to that night when he had walked her home and done the same. She had just found Rose's shop's address then and the future had been very hazy. And while the future was hazy once again, at least this time she had some direction. Not to mention a loving family who were supporting her all the way. She could only hope their family turned out half as good. 

The sun was staring to set as they approached the house and Jessamyn took a mental picture. She wanted to remember this moment for the rest of her life. She was in the best place in the world, with her fiancée, and her parents –both sets- waiting. She had found a mother, and a father, and had still saved room for those who had raised her and given her a better life. The future was uncertain, but the present was wonderful. She was back with them though, and that's what mattered most. The Calvert's had all been a big part of her life, but for so long she had been searching for something more that until her eighteenth birthday she never knew could be found. The revelations the Calvert's had presented to her opened up a whole new world. When she Rose found, it was a miracle. And Jack had been more then what anyone expected. But the last thing she had wanted to do was cut out her old life. So she combined them, it worked, and now she was back. She was back with all of them. 

**THE END!**

I can't believe its over! I think this is the fastest story I've ever written, lol. 

So many thank you's, I don't know where to start. First of all, to anyone who has read and/or reviewed Back With You, I thank you from the bottom of my heart. Every comment meant so much to me. This story was the best received of any of the ones I have done, and that's why I believe its become my best story to take. I feel in love with Jess and Charlie, even feel in love with Rose and Jack again, and I think that's because you all responded so well to what I was doing. Thank you to anyone who posted my story as well- Anne and fanfiction.net especially. And my friends as well, especially those who I have come to know through the fanfic community. You guys inspire me every day. I know I am forgetting people…but THANK YOU to everyone.

I am working on a new story, so look for that in the next couple of weeks/months sometime. 

Keep on reading! You guys keep us authors alive! THANK YOU! 


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